


Better Living Through Alchemy

by skydark



Series: The Adventures of Roy Mustang: Sex Ed Teacher [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: M/M, Roy/Ed - Freeform, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-24
Updated: 2011-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-15 01:15:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 312,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skydark/pseuds/skydark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to The Adventures of Roy Mustang: Sex Ed Teacher. What happens after the Happily Ever After? Roy and Ed continue their lives in a world they seek to reshape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He had the phone cord wrapped tightly around metal digits. His steel thumb rolled the tightly wrapped cord up and down his equally steel forefinger. He kept giving Roy (who was standing in the door way of the den with his robe half hanging from his tall, lanky frame) worried glances and kept _caressing_ the phone receiver with his flesh fingers, leaning harder into it.

“Then what did you see?” Edward said softly.

***

Alphonse was on a mission and it was also his time away in East City. He had two residences now, made necessary by his appointment to Colonel Hawkeye’s staff: one here and one at _home_ in Central. The Colonel and her hand-picked team had come to East City, a place better than it was when she was assigned there a few years ago, but still needing a firm touch. Alphonse, both flattered and thrilled, had of course eagerly jumped at the chance to accompany her, which resulted in him spending many a night with his elder brother looking like he wanted to throw himself off a bridge. But the Elrics, even in service to their country, had always been ones whose rules where twisted into pretzels for. When Alphonse didn’t have immediate pressing assignments, reports or theories due, he was allowed to be away from his assigned post, which helped to content his elder brother, if not very much.

But sometimes, like tonight, the dreams came. At first they were coy and shy, standing there twisting the hem of a skirt like that girl had that day, when she had watched Alphonse from the mezzanine in the park. The dreams would sidle and loiter, linger and sigh. They would wait until he was unguarded and then they would splinter and slither and hiss and strike. He would wake blindly, crying out in the darkness with unintelligible sounds, mostly of his brother’s name here and there. After he could breath again and his body obeyed his commands, he would lunge for the phone, perched right on the side of the bedside table, where it had rested the night before _(or rather, only hours previously)_ when he made his brotherly dutiful goodnight call.

The voice that would always answer these late night intrusions was jarring and would tease the edge of what was still hanging about in his mind, waiting for him to turn his back again. He found he wished the Pirate was quicker on his feet, but the true source of the dreams always spoke to him softy, trying to take the bad away and for that Alphonse was grateful.

Although, it never quite worked.

***

“I saw a woman,” Al said softly, “she was very beautiful, but looked cruel and then her fingers… I don’t know, it sounds crazy. They shot out and then there was a man, he was fat and he looked cheerful and terrifying, and he opened his mouth and… he had a mark on his tongue,” Al went quiet, listening to Edward’s breathing over the phone. His brother was almost panting now and it always seemed a peculiar comfort that in his time of need, it was he that would eventually have to soothe Ed.

“Is that all?” Ed’s voice came to him, distant and strained.

“Yes,” Al lied, “then I woke up. I’m sorry to have called you over nothing,” Al twisted the sheet in his fingers, glancing about his shadow-cased hotel room and sighing.

“No, it’s alright,” Ed said, “call me anytime, anytime at all. Do you want me to come out to where you are? I could help with the investigation…”

“No,” Al said quickly and maybe a little more forcefully than he should have, “it’s not necessary. I’m on assignment, brother; I’m capable of handling it on my own.”

 _And I don’t want you here breathing down my neck, second guessing all my decisions and being recognized. There are only so many blows to my ego that the FullMetal Alchemist should be allowed to make._

“Okay,” Ed said, sounding sad and resigned, “if you’re sure.”

“I appreciate it, I really do, but you need to keep an eye on the Pirate,” Al said, trying to make his own spirits lift from under the bed, “he’s hopeless without you around now, you’ve spoiled him.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Al could tell Ed was making the effort to improve the mood as well, since Al had made the first overture, “but all he does is bitch about my cooking and sleep in the big chair with a paper over his face. I can hardly see how he needs watching.”

“Well you know,” Al said, “it’s actually him watching you for me, we just like to make you feel useful.”

“I’m so glad we had this chat,” he brother grated out, “please call me tomorrow night right before dawn and insult me again.”

“Oh well, if you insist,” Al said merrily, “it’s not like it’s hard to do, goodnight brother!”

He hung up on the answering shout.

***

Ed glanced over at Roy who mumbled, “Al ok?” and yawned. Ed sighed, gave a shake of his head and half a smile.

“He is ok enough to rib me, so I guess he’s alright. Would you… would you ask Hawkeye to keep more of an eye on him?” Ed ventured, “Ah, listen to me,” Ed rubbed his face, “he’s perfectly capable, I know he is.”

Roy had lived with this over protective and elder sibling of Alphonse Elric’s for over a year now. He loves this man to his very inner workings and knows him like a book _(most of the time, until he runs off on a tangent he’s never been before, leaving the General standing there blinking)_. To make comments now will just lead to more Ed pondering, which might lead to guilt, and Roy is just _tired_ , so he tries to forestall it.

“I’m tired, let’s go back to bed,” he whines and coaxes.

“You go on back to bed,” Ed said with a shake of his head, “I’m up now, it will be dawn soon anyway,” he looked around the library, “maybe I can get some of that research done…”

Roy shuffled forward and draped his arms over the shoulder of the shorter man and _leaned_ into him, making Ed support his weight. He sighed heavily to add more poundage and snuffled behind Ed’s ear.

“Noooo, come back to bed,” the General complained, “I don’t like it, it’s hard to sleep. I want you to come toooo,” he grumbled, “if I go back to bed you’ll just come and wake me up every few minutes making sure I’m asleep, you have to come with me, I don’t like sleeping without you…” he got his lips on Ed’s earlobe, pressed hard _(no teeth is the rule)_ and tried to make himself weigh more. He was rewarded by Ed’s grunt.

“Quit being a bastard,” Ed said, staggering back a half step, arms going around Roy, “I won’t come and check on you then. You don’t need me to sleep, you did it plenty before, and before that too… come on… Roooyyy,” he whined.

But the General could tell by Ed’s tone, even as he complained, that he was pleased with the General’s admissions and that his resolve was slipping. He continued his boneless tilt into his love and sighed dramatically when called for, and Edward finally gave a hard snort. “Fine, let’s go back to bed.”

Well that was all the General wanted, so he straightened up and took Edward by the hand, dragging him back through the house to the bedroom and shoving him toward the bed until Edward snapped at him about being pushy _(but climbed up on the bed all the same)_ , and flopped around in the pillows. Roy shucked his half-worn robe with no grace and climbed back in, taking possession of his living bed warmer with an arm around the waist, spooning into his back. His possession grumbled and scooted and squirmed, but then settled and sighed and snuggled like he always did. It wouldn’t be Ed without the resistance.

As distressing as Al’s late night phone calls could be, once they were settled, Roy always had the satisfaction of realizing just why he loved Edward sleeping in the nude, because Edward walking around the house in the nude was a lot of fun too.

***

Sleep after that was useless.

Alphonse dragged himself out of bed and gathered his bath things. At this time of the morning, the communal bathroom that the three rooms on his floor shared _(of this house turned small hotel)_ would be empty, which would afford him enough time for a good soak. He left his room and went down the hall quietly, drew himself a tub full of hot water and sank into it.

Even on missions, he couldn’t shake Edward. But then again, this was his own fault for calling in a blind panic over a stupid… realistic-feeling dream. He would just have to control himself better; it was definitely one for the Green Journal. Alphonse still kept personal journals along side his notes and work journal. The work journal was brown, drab and filled with conjecture and copied information from books, but the Green journal held his speculations on life, his brother _(of course)_ , musings in general, half jotted down letters that would later be transferred to stationery and mailed to either Colonel Hawkeye or his Pirate, and his ever increasingly active dream life.

He wasn’t ready to replay his mind’s cinematic showing, so he tried to think of other things. The mission was not paying off as well as he thought, theorizing about using alchemy to encourage plants to grow and actual practice were two different matters. He had written letters to a Fletcher Tringham on the subject and received very warm replies, almost as if the young alchemic botanist _knew_ him personally. They had corresponded quite readily on the subject, but as Fletcher pointed out, he could coax a plant to grow artificially with alchemy, but it rarely produced edible vegetables or fruits. Fletcher himself indeed had some limited success, growing an alchemic apple tree that produced apples, but he admitted they weren’t quite right. The pies where never finished and were left to go stale on the window sill, but he encouraged Alphonse nonetheless to try, because a fresh perspective could always help nudge research in the right direction.

So Alphonse had come to Nambly with hopes and plans, and a farmer more than willing to lend his crops to research, but so far the tomatoes were slightly less hideous in appearance than a pickled brain and the peppers seem to have eyes. Ah, back to the drawing board it seemed, but at least he had the market cornered now in scary produce.

No one had gotten up the courage yet to take a bite.

***

The water was going chill by the time he let his mind’s eyes trace over the curves of the beautiful lady who laughed at him so cruelly from his dreams. Lust came to mind. Yes, she inspired lust. She was well proportioned and not inclined to cover it up, she was pale, her hair was inky and her eyes were purple, which had been very odd. Her voice was satiny for all its slicing edges and her laugh, even as it mocked him, held an allure. The woman was lust and should be called so, so in his mind he named her that. She caused him other problems besides sliding against his dreams and he closed his eyes and bit his lip and slid his hand between his legs to take care of the more physical evidence. But even as she started him out with her brittle smile and the way she leaned forward to let him see all that delicious cleavage, stroking him with that throaty laugh, his mind slipped to another set of eyes, dark and brown, a full bottom lip, the wisp of blonde hair that sometimes escape and curled right in front of an ear, and the way she’d reach up and tuck it behind that ear absently.

It was so totally irrational, because she never looked at him that way, she never looked at anybody that way. Her voice held no subtle undertones, no teasing edges; it was always even, reassuring and commanding. She never used her body as a distraction, she was always dressed appropriately and she wore dignity and poise like other women wore jewels. Al tilted his head back, gasped and arched up a bit to his hand, fingers tightening and pace quickening. His name was never simpered from her lips, it was always spoken with a levelness that grounded him. Her letters were full of inspiration, hidden pride and moralistic value and it was _wrong_ , it was just wrong to think of her when he was doing this.

But he did it anyways.

He couldn’t help it.

He bit his lip bloody to keep from screaming when he came.

***  
“Leave me the fuck alone,” it hissed and snarled, trying to push itself further into the back of the empty silo. There was a sound of metal on metal and then a furious amount of activity as the dark figure gained the ladder on the side of container and started to climb. The loud pounding of feet on the rungs was uneven.

The two men that had chased the thief in ran back out and around the side. They craned their necks upward as the hatch at the top swung open violently and the figure erupted onto the roof, scrambling for a moment on the tilt, then seeming to gain its balance as it dashed the rounded edge to the far side. The two men ran as well, but even in the brief moments it took them to round the container, the figure had leapt from it, landed hard and taken off around the back of the barn. Only the rustle of bushes told of its passage into the woods that bordered the field.

“It had metal arms and legs,” the man said to his son.

“It was a monster,” his son whispered.

***

Edward Elric jogged up the steps to the third floor administration offices where the higher ups office’s where housed and half smiled at a young Second Lieutenant who was stationed on guard duty there that gave him a salute. He was no longer military, so it was an unnecessary gesture and he had to wonder if it was in deference to his old title or his lover’s current one.

They weren’t exactly demonstrative in public _(because Edward never was, it was just something that rubbed him wrong unless the occasion was too involved to avoid it)_ , but they no longer exactly hid the relationship either. While it might raise eyebrows and cause murmurs and plenty of office gossip _(and what was an office without that)_ , Roy’s position and Edward’s discretion made it tolerable. It was all they could really hope for at the moment.

He strolled into the office like he still owned it _(because he did own the man behind the big desk)_ , tossing off a wave to Havoc and Fuery who were seated at the big table to one side, like always. It was comfortable and familiar, and he grinned as the General looked up at him and smiled. Edward spread his hands and said, “Here I am, as requested.”

“That’s so odd,” Havoc said from behind him, “to have him show up and look happy to be here. Damn, he’s even dressed.”

Edward snorted and rolled his eyes. The peanut gallery could never resist no matter how old he _(or they)_ got.

“I agree, Lieutenant Colonel,” the General said, “it’s almost like some strange illusion we are all sharing, a mirage of a man who looks like Edward Elric, but in reality is something our delusion-addled minds is trying to foist off on us. We need to check the ventilation system or the food in the cafeteria.”

Edward put his hands on his hips. Obviously the General was the ring leader of the peanut brigade, but then he always had been.

“My bets on the cafeteria,” Havoc said, “and after today’s offerings, I’m really glad Breda has work elsewhere. Can you just _imagine_ being trapped in here with him after eating _that_.”

Even Fuery gave an involuntary shudder.

  
While Ed stood glaring between the big desk and the big table, biding his time before he leapt to the attack, Roy took a few moments to take him in. His ever- present ponytail trailed over his shoulder in its usual haphazard fashion, worn high on the crown of his head. Now when he was out, he was given to tailored slacks and button down vests with suit jackets, high collared shirts and black ties with regular dress shoes. It was one of those great mysteries he brought back with him from wherever it was he had ventured and still hadn’t spoken very much of, except for the occasional slip.

Time away had taught Edward how to dress, among other things. Roy ached after some of the things Edward had grown into that he had not been around to witness. His charm had sharpened as well as his wit and he could control his anger a bit better. Learning to keep his mouth shut was a great accomplishment as far as Roy was concerned and it nagged at him that he didn’t know the circumstances behind such a dramatic change. Edward had also developed a casual grace he lacked in youth and of course the physical changes were more than evident. But the other changes, such as the way he moved against Roy in bed, the way he demanded, the way he knew just when too much was enough, the patience that he had lacked before, the newfound stamina that was never his forte, were on many occasions, Roy’s undoing.

Roy found, much to his own disliking, that some of this maturity grated on him. He realized he’d often prayed for it in the times before Edward had left him desolate and wondering how he’d grow old alone, but because Edward now possessed it and because Roy had not been part of its shaping… it nettled at him. Who had touched Edward, other than himself? He knew it was best not to think of these things, they were things that Edward could hardly have helped. The few details he’d gotten from Edward left him with the impression the young man had been trapped, wherever he had been, and it had taken him those soul-eating six years of Roy Mustang’s life to make it back.

But it had been Roy Mustang’s hands and lips and his _love_ that had given Edward the basics. He felt strangely cheated and bereft that he’d only been the first instructor and not the finishing school master in the final grade that was the Edward Elric of now, even though Edward himself had protested that in certain ways, groaning in Roy’s ear that the things he said where for Roy alone. It was probably idiotic to dwell and self-serving to feel, but he couldn’t help it, not really. He’d manage though, because that is what he did best. He had Edward back, whole, hearty and now staring at him strangely from the other side of the desk. He must have been making faces.

“So what is this big assignment you’re so sure I’ll get back on the payroll for?” Ed said, furrowing his own brow, “you left me a note written on the bathroom mirror with soap, so I showed up, the least you could do is start giving me hints. I know it pains you to give anyone a straight answer off the bat, but if you refresh me as to the rules of the game,” Edward waved one white, gloved hand in the air, “I’m sure I’ll pick it up again,” Edward tapped his temple with one finger and winked, “prodigy, you know.”

The General glanced at the big table that had gone all quiet at the mention of the soap message on the bathroom mirror and he worked his jaw back and forth a moment, already rehearsing the witty comebacks in his mind he was going to have to parry with Havoc’s wit. He appreciated Edward’s visits, he truly did, but not as much as the other men in the office, the General-persecuting-asses-who-should-all-b

e-court-marshaled absolutely _delighted_ in them. Edward, while discreet, was somehow still oblivious to subtext and if he was questioned just right, he would offer up to their weapons-master _(that would be Havoc)_ all sorts of raw materials with which to reduce the General, and his flimsy wall of witty subterfuge, to rubble.

The more he conjectured on the subject, the more strange looks he got from Edward and it appalled him that in the twilight of his years, he was wearing everything so openly when he never had before. But then again, he’d never been content before and like Edward, he had changed. So he put his elbows on his desk, laced his fingers in his customary fashion and raised an eyebrow.

“This look really suits you,” the General supplied, “and will appeal to the board as well. You look very respectable and scholarly, I won’t have to lean much at all.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Edward snorted, attention drawn back to the big desk before him and away from the table-of-buffoonery.

“The military needs you,” the General pointed at him, “but not in any way that would make you sign contracts. There is a position open in the Bradley Academy _(and YES damn it irked him that it had been renamed after that war-mongering homunculi bastard, but there was nothing he could do about it. He noted Ed’s matching scowl at just the name as well)_ that will suit you to perfection and get your ass up off our couch before you start to spread.”

“You are fucking kidding me, a position at the goddamn military academy?” Edward’s nostrils flared, “Teaching the snot-nosed brats of the fucking military brass? You have lost your damn mind, what makes you think I’d be the least bit… WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU CALLING FAT?!”

That had taken a bit longer than expected.

“Points, sir!” Havoc crowed, “He really is slipping to let one go for almost a whole minute.” the Lieutenant Colonel saluted from his seated position and Fuery shook his head, sighing.

Edward whirled on them, pointed and shrieked, “Shut UP!” Then he whirled back on the General, sprang to the desk and slammed his hands down on it _(wincing just a little because this desk top was marble and it must have stung his flesh hand)_. All he was missing was his braid, crimson coat and metal shadow. The General just grinned without flinching, put his chin on his laced fingers and just _enjoyed_ his lover like nothing else.

“I’m not calling you fat, FullMetal,” the General said, “I’m calling you lazy, something you often call me. Isn’t it time you were a contributing member to society once more? After all, ‘The People’s Alchemist’ can almost write his own ticket, and they aren’t all military brats, the Academy is accepting students from outside now as well. You’d be teaching Alchemy, or the basics and theory, that’s just frosting for you. It would be a very cush position, leaving you plenty of time for the important things and yet still let you feel like you’re pulling your _weight_.”

Edward had learned to control _(mostly)_ his issues with his height, but now that the General was swinging for the gut, it was a whole new trauma. Edward windmilled in the most entertaining fashion and Roy ate up every last nuance of every flail. He replayed his happiest days before these when a twelve year old boy had made his life exciting and turbulent, and when a fifteen year old boy had finally brought him the things in life that truly mattered. He grinned merrily as Edward struggled to compose himself _(doing a very lousy job of it)_.

“You fucking BASTARD,” Edward gasped and leaned on the desk again panting, “so you think I’m a mooch, do you? You think I’m not doing my share, do you? Well I’ll have you fucking know that if that is the way you fucking feel about it, then I’ll fucking make myself useful, and you’ll be fucking sorry because I’ll be so goddamn useful, they’ll see how irrelevant you ARE!” he screeched.

“By all means,” the General purred, “please put me out of a job. Then I can lie about at home all day, reading the paper, eating the pantry bare and sleeping on the couch with my t-shirt pulled up to my nipples,” and his dark eye danced merrily.

“I fucking hate you,” his lover hissed insincerely, “just wait until we get home,” he glowered, “you’re going to be really fucking sorry then.”

“Oh I look forward to it,” the General returned with glee, leaning closer. Then the General remembered they had an audience and the retort about which sexual promise Edward would going to extract from him tonight died on his lips. He set back and pushed a folder that was on his desk in the panting young man’s direction. “Here are the particulars,” he said cheerfully, “why don’t you sit over at the big table like old times and go over them?”

Edward snatched up the folder, straightened, sniffed very haughtily and _stalked_ to the table. He started to sit by Havoc, but changed his mind and sat down next to Fuery instead, who didn’t look too pleased to be Edward’s honored chair-side partner. He flipped the folder opened, just _dared_ Havoc to say a word by magically waving his hair antenna _(another thing he would NEVER outgrow)_ and began to read.

Ah, the General thought, life is grand.

***

After the short train ride back to East City that afternoon _(on which he’d managed to nap and catch up on his lost sleep)_ , Alphonse made his first stop at the East City Military Labs and delivered to Lieutenant Parkerson the _fruits of his labors_. They both shared a geeky smile over the pun and Alphonse turned over what notes he had written during his alchemic experiments with the promise of a more detailed theory to follow. Parkerson had chortled in glee, exactly like the mad scientist Alphonse always fancifully expected him to be, over the alchemic vegetables, but managed to refrain from ruffling Alphonse’s hair like he had done when Alphonse first started delivering him creative ways to spend his afternoons at the tender age of thirteen. But then again, Alphonse had been much shorter at the time and Parkerson didn’t have to stand on tiptoe to do it.

He would never deny that the spring in his step _(that everyone took for youthful enthusiasm and just outright Alphonse good-naturedness)_ when he entered the main building on the East City Military compound had to do with _her_ more than the duty she called on him to serve. Unlike his Pirate _(his General, his enabler)_ , she was much more given to protocol. He had to check in at regular intervals, he had to justify expense reports, he had to maintain proper military protocol, and these were all such small things. He gave them to her easily and gratefully, and was just happy that she relied on him the way she did, for she hardly relied on anyone.

He entered the office and immediately squatted down, waited patiently for his first real welcome back, one that had always greeted him since he’d first set foot as a working man of the military in any office. The old dog shoved to its feet from the pillow by the desk and came trotting over, not quite the bounce it used to have, but tail wagging just as it always had. It pushed its graying muzzle into his hand and then under, bumping up with its nose. Alphonse grinned and scratched all the old dog’s favorite itchy places on its head and under its chin. It was just so welcoming and had always put him, at any age, right at ease in duty and spirit.

“Lieutenant Colonel Alphonse Elric reporting for duty, sir,” the young man told Black Hayate, “It’s good to be back and have someone so glad to see me.”

Duty satisfied, the dog made its way back to its pillow and laid back down, looking up at the figure seated behind the desk as if to say it had inspected this new visitor and given its approval. Alphonse stood then, straightened his back and lifted his hand, fingers going stiff and rigid as he saluted his commanding officer with reverence and respect, just like she always deserved.

“Lieutenant Colonel,” Colonel Hawkeye said, “welcome back. I didn’t expect to see you in this afternoon, you could have reported in tomorrow morning.”

“Saw no time like the present, sir,” Alphonse said, thus acknowledged and dropping his salute, “I had to make a delivery to the lab anyway, I thought I’d check my correspondence _(and see you)_ before heading over to my apartment.”

“It’s not like I’m complaining,” she said mildly, “you are a rather nice change from my usual stream of overworked and underpaid complaints,” she gestured toward the big table where a small file box sat, “Lieutenant Pharr sorted the mail just this morning, I believe you’ll find it in your drawer.”

Al nodded, smiling, and walked over to the table to pull open the drawer marked ‘Lt. Col. Elric’. He smiled at the handful of white envelopes lying within it, plucked them out and plopped with his usual casual grace into a chair at the table to sort through them himself, prioritizing them in his usual fastidious manner.

There was a letter from _Ed_ , who he talked to every single day on the _phone_ and who didn’t write as well as he articulated in any newsy fashion. It was probably just filled with complaints about the General, anyway; to the bottom of the stack it went. There was a letter from the assessment board that needed looking into; probably a polite inquiry as to when it would be convenient to set the date for this year. That was fairly important, it stayed at the top. There was a letter from the General, who he didn’t get to talk to on the phone because his elder brother was a hog that way, forcing them to correspond on paper to get anything across, and there was a letter from his friend Elysia Hughes, who he had met at a holiday party with the General a couple of years ago. She was only fourteen, soon to turn fifteen, but she wrote such sweet letters that he enjoyed her correspondence very much. She always sent photographs and was becoming quite the photographer. No letter from Mr. Burt, which was a bit troubling. He wondered if he could write to the station master at Pekinpaw for news or find out if the old man was just being slow, which he often was. Winry’s scrawled penmanship, little better than Ed’s, graced one envelope and he smiled, fingering the edge of it. Even if he no longer considered Risembool the place he wanted to spend the rest of his years, it would always be home. He hoped she was doing well; the last he’d heard from her she was planning on returning to Rush Valley.

A few bills he needed to satisfy were also in the pile, they went on top with the assessment board letter. All in all, it was a satisfying little stack. He was grateful that his loved ones took time out to write him and tell them of their lives, even Ed, but really, it was because he was bored with nothing better to do. The General needed to work up the courage to broach that teaching position that had come open with his brother and soon, before someone else had it. Ed had gone from content slacker to discontent nitpicker in the last month and it was the warning sign of worse things to come if he wasn’t occupied with something capable of causing his intellect to at least notice, if not become distracted.

With that in mind, he stood and put his letters in his jacket pocket _(no longer black, no longer Ed’s, but his own)_ and looked in the Colonel’s direction. She nodded her head once, always seeming to know when his eyes were on her, even if she didn’t look up from her paperwork. He saluted her again, knowing she knew he’d done it even if she still didn’t look in his direction.

“See you in the morning, sir,” Alphonse said.

“Have a good evening, Lieutenant Colonel,” she replied.

Alphonse gave a wave to Black Hayate as he headed out the door to go home.

***

It was, and he _hated_ to admit it, an intriguing proposal. Ed wondered who the General had leaned on to get it written in just such a way to make his alchemic blood tingle. Teaching basic theory shouldn’t be this appealing at all, especially not to a group of thirteen year old boys.

But the proposal spoke of prestige and honor _(which he could care less about)_ , of lab privileges and resource budgets _(which of course he could care about)_ , of lecture circuits _(which appealed to that little, vain voice in his head that remembered that he liked to make a spectacle of himself in the name of science)_ and of long summers and holiday breaks. The salary wasn’t insulting _(not that he needed anything spectacular, he still had some of his savings he’d accumulated before his enforced abandonment of his world that Alphonse had refused to touch, plus the General wasn’t too shabby in the bread winning department)_ and the schedule promised flexibility. It _could_ be a pleasant way to while away his hours in the day when the General wasn’t available for his pleasure, insulting or otherwise.

He knew Roy was watching him, trying to study him the way Alphonse did when Edward thought he wasn’t looking. He was still mad at him _(not an ounce of fat anywhere on this frame, you bastard, and you know it because you have your hands and mouth all over it all damn night)_ , so he deliberately kept any look of thoughtful acceptance off his face. Let the man stew, as Anna always said, it made him squirm and that was cute on the General. Edward closed the folder, stood and tucked it under his arm. The General raised his eyebrow.

“I’ve read your damn proposal and now you owe me, take me to lunch,” he told the smirking black eye.

The General shrugged and smiled, standing to retrieve his coat. He was under no illusion whose rank was higher in situations like these.

***

  
Alphonse keyed into his apartment, closed the door and leaned back against it, glad to be home. He took the mail from his pocket, pressing it to his lips once before shrugging out of his jacket and hanging it on a peg behind the door. He strolled through the foyer and living room, humming softly to himself while giving the mail one last priority shuffling before laying it on the kitchen table and heading for his refrigerator for some juice. It should still be good, it was only just been purchased the day before he left.

Retrieving his juice, he reached up into the cabinet and brought down a heavy, etched, crystal glass tumbler. It was one of a set of twelve, very detailed, very expensive and very inappropriate to his bachelor existence and paycheck. He poured it about three quarters of the way with juice and carried it to the kitchen table to sit down and finger open his first letter. Mr. Armstrong had been so happy and pleased to present him with the glasses at his ‘house warming’ party when he’d first rented the apartment in East City. He’d traveled out by train with the General and met up with Alphonse and Edward at a restaurant called Sardi’s, where they all had a nice dinner and walked back through the park to inspect Alphonse’s freshly rented abode. Mr. Armstrong was such a _nice_ man. Despite his intimidating stature, his eyes spoke of kindness and thoughtfulness. He could be overbearing at times, that was true, but no more so than his own brother, and he was there for Alphonse in his own way when he had first come to Central seeking the Pirate Mustang.

He’d met him only a week after arriving and the look in the man’s eyes at their meeting had left Alphonse with one of his very first pangs of knowing the _before_. He looked like he might break into tears, this gentle giant in a tailored suit. Alphonse came to learn that Mr. Armstrong had once been Major Armstrong, who served in the military alongside his Pirate and his brother, but the man had not reenlisted after his last term of duty. His Pirate had explained that Mr. Armstrong had finally realized that his father’s ambitions where not his own and had spent enough time in the military already to honor family traditions. The large man was running a business as well as a few relief agencies in the frontier towns ravaged by war, such as Liore and many places in Ishbhal, which was slowly recovering from a disastrous civil war and uprising that had lasted many years. He needed his very large stature, Alphonse had concluded, to hold his very large heart and spirit. He was such an easy man to read, at times it was embarrassing, but one time, to a sobbing fourteen year old boy lost in despair and waning hope, he’d been a gentle deep voice and large warm hand on his back. He’d spoke of family and honor and tradition and hope. Hope so bright that Alphonse couldn’t turn his back on it, and an admiration and love so strong for Alphonse’s own brother, he couldn’t help but be inspired by it.

Large hands had offered the handkerchief that had dried his eyes, deep pockets had provided a sandwich at his favorite deli and a very big heart had spent an afternoon fortifying the support system that told Alphonse Elric he would find his brother. Al had never forgotten it. He skimmed his official business and bills quickly _(and reprioritized them again. An organized mind, an organized life, an organized mantra. Yes, it served him well)_ so he could take time to enjoy his personal mail, like his letters. He finally wandered through them one by one, laughing and sighing and making mental notes about what to write in return. Then he came to Edward’s letter, last in the stack and thickest. He knew it was inevitable, so he opened it by ripping off the end _(thinking perversely that if he accidentally ripped part of the letter itself, he wouldn’t have to read it, but he admonished himself for such a thought about a loving brother who just wanted to be close to him and share news)_ and pulled out the heavy military stationery Edward habitually stole from the General’s desk.

It was, as Alphonse expected, a complete bitch fest for the most part. The Pirate had done things to Edward’s disliking _(as usual)_ and Edward felt he was within his rights to rant about it _(on paper as well as verbally, because they’d had this very exact conversation on the phone and from glancing at the date of the letter, on the very exact day)_. It also had a very detailed and abusive description of what Edward had had for lunch _(complete with a taste sample in the margin, if Alphonse cared to look closely enough. Did Edward carry the letter around with him all day and stop and write at intervals when he’d done something he considered noteworthy?)_ and how lackluster it was. Of course it implied ‘Why aren’t you here to cook it for me?’. Alphonse rolled his eyes and sighed, but even as he did so, he realized it was things like this that made him love his brother despite his brother. Edward _wanted_ to share his life with Alphonse. He wanted to tell him about his day, his feelings, his hopes and fears, Edward wanted to be a part of his life and Alphonse wanted him to be wholeheartedly. He wanted to know he had Edward’s love to fall back to when he was feeling down, Edward’s caring to lean against when things were tough and Edward’s laughter when times were good. They were brothers, decreed by blood and god _(don’t get Ed started on that)_ who blessed him with such a wonderful one, even when he tried to tighten invisible apron strings all the way from Central by bitching about his own inadequate cooking skills.

Cooking led to thoughts of dinner and how cooking for one wasn’t any fun, which led to thoughts of going out, equally boring when one was alone, which led to thought of what was April doing and would she like to go to dinner? He went to his desk in the corner of the living room he called his den and pulled out a small address book _(a present from his Pirate)_ , looked up her number and set his hand on the receiver. For a moment, for a single moment, he though of making a call elsewhere, where crisp tones would inform him that fraternization among enlisted personnel was strictly forbidden, and even as much as the friendly gesture was appreciated, it just wouldn’t look right, being only the two of them. He sighed and called April instead and was pleased when she accepted. He hung up the phone, went to freshen up and added a P.S. to his letter to his Pirate.

***

Edward started down the stairs first, turned to look at the General over his shoulder and lifted the folder he was holding in his hand.

“Who did you bribe to write this?” he asked. The General just smiled and ducked his head forward in indication that Edward should watch where he was going. Ed turned to look ahead of him and then whirled around to go back up the stairs, but he bumped into the General and stumbled backwards. His eyes widened when they lifted to the General’s face, but the General just grinned as a pair of log-sized forearms came into Edward’s peripheral vision and steel bands wraps around his chest causing his ribs to make creaking noises like someone stepping on loose floorboards. His lover just continued to grin as all the air rushed from his lungs and his back met granite. A noise, deep, booming and oddly human, rang out above his head.

“Even though you have come back to us and have been with us all this time, Edward Elric,” the deep thrumming in his ears told him, “each time I see you, I am filled with gratitude and faith in the human condition, knowing that you are living proof that determination, devotion and love is all mankind needs to survive.”

Ed wheezed and made clutching motions with his hand in Roy’s direction, but Roy seemed very unperturbed by this turn of events and had stopped walking down the steps to merely stand a few steps above where Ed’s life was being squeezed out of his nostrils.

“It’s good to see you again, Alex,” the General said, “I didn’t know you were back in Central.”

“I had some unexpected business here and I couldn’t let a trip go to waste without checking in with my dear friends,” Alex Louis Armstrong replied, “I was also hoping to see Alphonse, how is the lad?”

Neither of them seemed to be concerned that Edward could hear his spine cracking.

“Well, he’s in the East. You remember I told you he was attached to Colonel Hawkeye’s unit now. I expect him back next week, if you’re going to be around that long,” Roy said pleasantly.

Edward was having tunnel vision now and he thought that his time home had been all too brief. He hoped Roy wouldn’t grieve overly, and that Alphonse would have a happy life as well, complete with kittens and children, or children with kittens or something to do with kittens and maybe children but not in that order.

“Alex, I believe Edward is turning blue,” some wonderful person who was dressed like the General said from what seemed a great distance to Edward’s ears. Ah, his lover was speaking for him, but it was too late. He would miss him, but this was just another journey like journeys he’d had before. He might not find his way back this time, but at least he would have that one last line, said in his defense, to carry with him.

Suddenly, Edward could breathe again. The hand that slapped him on the back _(that seemed to be the same width as his back)_ had rattled his vertebrae like beads on a bracelet and helped to revive him somewhat, as it offered jovial pain.

“My apologies, I know I can be a bit overwhelmed with camaraderie whenever I see the boy,” Alex said, “can I offer the two of you lunch?”

Roy flashed a smile usually reserved for courtship and Edward, while still trying to convince his broken body to function, scowled. The General eagerly accepted the invitation, because at heart he was a cheapskate.

“We’d be honored of course, Alex,” the General purred, “I know just the place too, a nice uptown eatery that many of the officers here talk about,” The General descended the steps and stopped by Edward’s side. “Edward can tell us his thoughts on the youth of today, since he’ll soon be teaching at the Academy.” Roy grinned.

“This is a cause for celebration,” Alex boomed, looking a bit like he might be in a hugging mood again. Ed whimpered and shuffled toward Roy, who took pity and smoothly stepped in front of him to offer his protection: Alex had never hugged the General.

“Exactly,” Roy said and turned to his side, regarding his lover with a sly smile, “I’m sure he wouldn’t want to turn such an opportunity down, but should that thought be lurking at the edges of his decision, you’ll be able to talk some sense into him, I’m sure. He never really listened to me, as you will remember.”

“I will make it my honor bound duty to convince him that his great knowledge should be prevailing. To think of all the boys he could inspire with his lifetime of accomplishments to share, I can think of no one better to mold our youth of today for a brighter tomorrow. There is an artistic persuasion technique passed down in the Armstrong family for generations and I have very few chances to actually practice it.”

Edward conjectured that this was due to people agreeing readily to any suggestion the ex-Major might have made, for fear of their rib cages. He didn’t bother to hide the injurious look he leveled at the General who only smirked in return.

“Let’s be off, shall we?” Roy said and stepped away from Edward, resuming their walk down the stairs. Edward’s eyes widened as his shield deserted him and Alex turned his earnest blue eyes on him. The arm that fell over Edward’s shoulders nearly sent him to his knees as he was propelled forward. He almost went down the stairs head first, save for the grip the man had on his shoulder.

“You’re being so quiet, Edward,” Alex rumbled, “I can see this decision weighs heavily on your mind. Let me tell you of my Great Uncle Maximus Armstrong, who also faced a similar decision….”

As the man continued to push Edward forward with his body and voice, Edward’s eyes fixed on a dark-haired bastard strolling down the steps before him. It was a good thing he loved the man, because right now he really _hated_ him.

***

Alphonse returned home, bussed thoroughly, but with little else to show for his trouble and expense. All the women of his acquaintance in East City, when not attached to the military, were introduced to him through First Lieutenant Pharr. Pharr was a handsome enough, twenty-something military brat who enlisted to please his father and was a credible officer, otherwise Colonel Hawkeye would never had tolerated him on her staff.

Alphonse found Clayton Pharr very pleasant company and the older man seemed happy to have Al to pal around with as well. They spent at least one night a week talking about the local gossip _(office oriented and otherwise)_ , current events and bachelorhood in general at one of the eateries that bordered East City Park. Clayton, in the much the same way as Al’s Pirate, never had problems attracting the opposite sex. He was well known among the local waitresses and hostesses, shop girls and office helpers. He was so successful in fact, Alphonse considered him the rightful inheritor of the Pirate’s East City legacy, and felt a little jealous to admit it to himself, seeing as he always thought _he’d_ be the lucky soul to pocket a well worn little black book, handed down through the generations in much the same illustrious way as the Armstrong family handed down its various techniques.

But Clayton endeared himself to Alphonse by sharing the wealth. He introduced Alphonse to many a pleasant and lovely young lady and spoke highly of Alphonse’s rank, state alchemist title and engaging mind. He sold Alphonse the way a wily street vendor sold day old fish and patted him fondly on the back with a broad wink at every evening outing he scored. Alphonse was grateful. He was academically unmatched, but romantically inept, and to his embarrassment, a bit shy _(much to his own exasperation. No matter how he wished to emulate the Pirate, even just the thought of doing so made him twitch with unfulfilled dread. The Pirate’s reputation was legendary, even to this day, it made Alphonse wonder sincerely how he attained it, seeing as he had very obvious eyes for Alphonse’s older brother and didn’t bother to hide it very well)_. Plus, the way his dates treated him on their outings did little to boost his confidence.

They were always polite _(he would expect nothing less of First Lieutenant Pharr’s lady friends)_ and pleasant company, intelligent girls that could converse beyond the realm of female gossip, usually in literature or other such philosophical things _(Pharr was always very careful who he set Alphonse up with, like a fastidious matchmaker)_. They were happy to spend his money, thrilled that he was gentleman enough to walk them home, grateful enough for kisses with perhaps a little tongue, but in the end he always felt like they were restraining themselves from giving him a pat on the head before they banished him from even the realm of his fantasies with the shutting of a door and the turning of a deadbolt.

So here he was, yet again, home in his Edward-chosen apartment with his right hand and his smirking inner voice who told him that he should know better. The Pirate he was not and never would be, mere association with the man did not make him irresistible by osmosis. Thinking about his pirate led inevitably to thinking about his brother, because his brother always got in between the General and Alphonse on the most minor of matters nowadays. It was mainly why he _wrote_ to his Pirate, trusting that Edward had enough social grace not to open the man’s letters.

His Pirate was always encouraging, offered sound advice, dirty little tricks and everything needed to woo his prospective cuddle-afterwards-session a good time, but obviously Alphonse wasn’t implementing the techniques the General so painstakingly inscribed for him. It wasn’t like him, there was no written instruction ever beyond his grasp before, but he kept the letters bundled chronologically in a bible of fornication techniques to rival even the most prolific sensual writer of the legendary whore houses of Xing, tucked carefully away in a box under his bed where his elder brother’s prying eyes better _not_ find them.

Alphonse trudged back to his bedroom, tugging at his tie and toeing off his shoes once he got in the door. He picked them up and returned them to the closet at the end of the line, next to his secondary pair lined up for duty the next day when nudged, then tucked his tie on its wooden hanger and began unbuttoning his shirt. His apartment was roomy and comfortable for a single man, and it faced the park to the front. His unit was on the bottom floor left hand corner of the building, butted up against a tiny, but well maintained courtyard that gave a bit of breathing room from its next closest neighbor. He was fond of it despite his initial resistance. Edward had been _so_ insistent it be _this_ particular complex. Alphonse found his brother’s regular bouts of ‘I-know-what’s-best-for-you’ really grated on his nerves _(despite the fact Alphonse knew it was done out of love. The other option of course, was that Edward show no interest or caring at all and Al really felt that would leave a very empty hole in his chest)_.

He remembered as they stood on the stoop with the landlord that Edward kept casting wistful glances at an occupied unit a couple of stoops down. Alphonse knew there was a story to the looks, he knew it had to do with the _before_ , but on that subject Edward was as steel as his right arm. He would utter not one word, but he’d study Al’s eyes, looking for something and looking hard. Al tried to bare his soul because he really wanted to _know_ , but in that he knew Edward would never give him any satisfaction until he saw in Alphonse what he was looking for. There was some magic padlock to Edward’s explanations that Alphonse had the key for, but it was tucked somewhere inside his head. Until he could find it and give his visual signal that he was jumping up and down and waving it about, his brother would not let him anywhere near the lock of his memories. It was frustrating and aggravating and infuriating, he was not a _child_! They should just tell him already! He knew! He _knew_ he knew, but convincing Edward to let him _know_ was running right into the wall of Edward determination with blinders on.

His Pirate also shied from all direct questioning and was too smart to give himself up to subtle maneuvering. He’d look at Alphonse, apology in that dark eye and gently nudge the subject into another lane of traffic, looking for the exit. Alphonse had a soft spot a mile wide for Roy Mustang, so naturally he would let himself be redirected and go about his own research _(also completely frustrating, especially when he realized that even though he was granted the files on his elder brother when he first started his search, they were incomplete. Military efficiency demanded numbers and symbols and filing techniques designed to make even the most disorganized file keep formation. In theory they worked well, when one could understand them and naturally Alphonse could)_ , which included the rash of dime store novels that his brother’s exploits had generated in a time and nation hungry for heroes.

He dismissed them as utter hogwash _(his own very diminished role in these ludicrous publications that could, on a good day, laughingly be called an attempt at entertainment, notwithstanding)_ , especially now that he had the flesh and blood FullMetal Alchemist to compare with his literary counterpart. Edward in these novels was _taller_ , he was _politer_ , he was _omnipotent_ with amazing clairvoyant powers, his automail was more _impressive_ and seemed to be able to house an amazing variety of different modes and functionability _(Winry loved these stupid books)_. Overall, they were a complete sham of reality that was, if he thought about it, exactly what it was supposed to be. He was always cast as a ‘pilot’, housing himself in an immense, steam-powered, armored suit and possessing incredible skills at hand to hand combat, but other than dashing to his brother’s side to render aid at the appropriate climactic time, he had no characterization at all, not that he cared _(yes, he cared and was insulted)_.

Alphonse, in short order, stripped to his undershirt and long briefs as he let himself wallow in his self-pity, both with women and in the minds of dime-store novelists, and flopped back on his bed. Credibility and reliability should outweigh manic obsession and fictionally gifted super powers any day.

But as usual, that’s not how the world worked.

***

Lunch had been pleasant and afterwards, Roy had waved goodbye as Armstrong cheerfully manhandled Edward down the street to continue their conversation while the General returned to the office. Edward had cast glances over his shoulder as he was dragged away, both homicidal and pleading, but Armstrong had ushered him off around a corner before either had landed with sufficient force on the General’s conscience to make a significant impact.

Roy was under no pretense about the frank and distinct possibility he would be sleeping on the couch in his den tonight. At least he could crank the phonograph and let one of his divas sing him a song about what a miserable bastard he was for inflicting one of Edward’s only natural weaknesses on him before he went to sleep.

As improbable as circumstance made it, Edward actually _listened_ to Alex and had, on many occasions, in his youth. While he protested the larger man’s very physical need to demonstrate affection, he wasn’t fool enough to not recognize that a keen intelligence lurked behind the overbearing demeanor. Roy could talk until he was blue in the face, _(and often did)_ with only partial success, but for whatever uncanny reason, Alex _(as he always had with anyone of his acquaintance)_ had a way of using the muscle of his mind to move mountains of doubt and insecurity. As Edward himself had once quipped, in his very own Edward Elric eloquent way, the man ‘shit sunshine.’

So be it. The teaching assignment was perfect for Edward, he was just too stubborn to admit it. Let Alex put him in traction for the good of the Academy, it was worth a cold metal shoulder and a night or two on the couch, as dismal as a night on the couch seemed.

He wondered if Edward would get to see Armstrong’s chest before the day was over, it might actually improve his chances of sleeping in his own bed that night.

***

Roy saw the haze of broodiness lurking beneath the front door when he returned to their house that night. It seemed to be pooled there, waiting for an unwary General’s casual trod, so it could rush back to its master and inform him that his prey was home, to ready his wrath for dinner.

Roy lingered on the walk for a good five minutes, twisting over excuses and apologies _(that weren’t actually apologies. More like cleverly disguised, placating words that might be relations to apologies, but shunned like red-headed step-cousins)_ before deciding that discretion was not the better part of valor when dealing with an Edward armed with mock betrayal and possible spinal fractures. He was a General after all and had faced down much more fearsome foes in the past than one pissed off, diminutive, blonde lover, armed with a quarter ton of steel and enough alchemic power to reduce Roy into a mass of quivering gelatin in a uniform.

He coaxed his courage out of his belly and went through his front door. The house was still rightfully his after all, even if his person was not. Property values on houses were always so much more lucrative than on the broken bodies an enraged FullMetal left in his wake. He heard footsteps as soon as he closed the front door and shucked his great coat. A pair of golden orbs glittered in a shifting myriad of expressions from the end of the front hallway, in the door that lead into the kitchen. Roy sighed, braced himself and put on a smile, hoping that somehow it might at least soften the verbal beating he was about to take. But Edward, like _always_ , surprised him anew by merely snorting and lifting an eyebrow.

“I made you dinner, bastard,” he said, lifting his nose and turned back into the kitchen.

It was worse than he’d feared: Alex must have dropped him on his head. Only he could do it with enough force to actually make a dent.

***

A tale tell folder lay on the table between the place settings. Roy took off his uniform jacket and hung it on the back of his chair, unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled his sleeves up before sitting down. The kitchen actually smelled wonderful and not the least bit oily. He watched Edward over at the counter, even if he didn’t look his way once the entire time. When Edward did deign to give him a glance, it was when he was carrying the plates to the table. He sat one at his place setting first, one in front of the General, then returned to the counter for a pitcher and two glasses. He then returned, arranged himself in his chair and shrouded his lap in a napkin.

Roy was busy looking at the plate in front of him. It looked like fish, actual fish, not just a slab of ruddy, golden crispness that was usually the bulk of Edward’s homemade meals. There was rice and vegetables, too. He glanced up at the clink of glassware and the filled glass Edward sat in front of him that seemed to be tea colored _(if a bit murky)_. Edward raised an eyebrow at him and said, “What?”

“Well I was expecting, I mean, thank you,” Roy said, deciding not to voice his complete astonishment that he was being treated civilly _(even practically pampered)_ and being fed, instead of being blistered from head to toe by a tongue scalding.

Edward shrugged casually, filling his own glass. He picked up his fork and seemed to hover over the fish for a moment, before actually picking up a piece and sticking it in his mouth thoughtfully. He moved it about a few moments, face ranging in emotion from braced skepticism, to mild surprise, to starved eating machine. Roy found the dish equally appetizing and silence reigned while they both shoveled _(the General never one for table etiquette at home since he had to practice it so ardently in public during his youth)_ food and grunted male satisfaction. After the meals were mostly devoured and the second glass of tea was poured, it settled to the point where dinner conversation was allowable.

Roy glanced pointedly at the folder and then over to Edward, who met his eye when it swung his way. Edward tilted his head a bit to the side and gave a little shrug.

“You’re right, I need to burn off some of my collecting energy reserves,” he admitted, “and it will be conducive to my own research that I’ve let lie about in the ruins of what was me for this past year, but I damn well think you could have convinced me of that instead of letting me be strong armed into it, and I do mean that literally.”

“That was a happy accident,” Roy said, “I had no idea Alex was in town or that he was planning a surprise lunchtime visit.”

“If that’s true, which I highly doubt,” Edward said, “you’re really starting to slip in your old age. I distinctly remember there was a time when you could tell me when I went to the bathroom on a mission in a place that was four days away.”

Roy snorted.

“Those were different times. At first it was to keep tabs on a very young subordinate who was just learning the ropes,” the General informed him loftily, the age quip making him a bit defensive despite himself, “and later it was to keep tabs on my lover, because that is what lovers do.”

“Oh really? You though I would cheat on you?” Edward said with a sparkle in his golden eyes, “were you that jealous of me back then?”

Already slightly on the ropes, Roy leaned further into them.

“Not at all,” he said, mind beginning to grope around for the right turns of phrase to bring the ball back in his own court and away from Edward’s delighted grasp, “it was concern for your safety, which you cannot begrudge me. You are the ultimate shit magnet and each time I saw you in a hospital bed it took another year off my life. See? You shall have to spend many little old gray years alone now, and it’s all your own fault.”

“Man, you can’t even argue fair anymore,” Edward said, softening with amusement, “this love stuff stinks. It always defuses what could be a great screaming battle and we miss out on fantastic make-up sex. I hear this happens when you’re settled,” Edward grinned, not sounding at all put out by the prospect.

Roy pushed his plate aside and put his elbows on the table, grinning back and noting Edward’s own relaxed and easy posture now. He loved this playfulness that maturity had brought him, the ability to deflect things and not take them as personally as he did when he was younger. His ability to control himself was growing in leaps and bounds and it just lent itself to the increasing alluring package that was Edward Elric, the adult.

“I’ll arrange a meeting with the dean tomorrow; he’s halfway expecting the call anyway. You’re going to find this position to be a real ego stroker, and I know how you like that,” Roy teased, “not to mention you’ll come to find molding young lives just as satisfying as I once did.”

Edward shook his head.

“You’re something else, always so full of yourself. You certainly molded me alright, into the defensive, adrenaline-maddened teenage maniac I once was. I hope you’re proud of your accomplishment.” Edward wrinkled his nose and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest.

“I am,” the General purred, “because I get to reap the benefits of my teachings almost every night, and that is an accomplishment for a man my age.”

Edward had the decency to blush just a bit. Roy wished he didn’t have his boots on so he could toe an ankle of hard calf under the table.

“Dinner was excellent,” the General continued, the verbal foreplay had started and he did enjoy it so, “is it from the deli? Are they trying out new things?”

Edward shifted in his chair a moment and shook his head.

“Armstrong family fish poached in wine technique,” he mumbled, “passed down in the family for generations, as you well know.”

The General laughed.

**

Roy reached over and turned on the bedside lamp, panting slightly. His lover, younger and always more energetic after sex, slid out of bed and returned a short time later to perform a clean up with a warm cloth, something the General appreciated with great enthusiasm. He found it endearingly touching, especially since it was a custom Edward had practiced from almost their very first sexual encounter. Roy always took it as a ‘thank you’, nothing like being thanked for your efforts in the give-your-lover-a-screaming-orgasm department.

Afterwards, Edward crawled back into bed and half way onto Roy, who was lying on his back, and began trading pecks and fingering black bangs. The wind down was in its own way as pleasurable as the wind up. They were both warm and sated, and could study each other without words in these small times after. In ways, it was more than words their looks spoke to each other. After a bit, Edward’s look turned questioning and then intense. He was staring at Roy’s bangs and automail fingers closed with a click; Roy hissed and slapped his hand to his forehead when they plucked. He scowled at his lover who was holding his prize aloft, turning it this way and that in the lamp light.

“What are you doing?” Roy asked, the answer already forming on the edge of his brain, because the rest of his brain began to back away in dread.

Edward grinned, slow and sly, and he held the hair in front of Roy’s nose the way an investigator held up for examination his prized piece of evidence.

“Look at this, General,” the words rolling off Edward’s tongue like a slinking cat and the grin on his face sharpening in a similar fashion to said creatures fangs, “I do believe this is _gray_ ,” he half way cackled.

“It’s your deranged imagination,” the General huffed, “or your damn cat-yellow eyes playing tricks on you,” he flung back, his own fingers working his bangs now as if he could tell by touch if his hair was graying there or not.

Edward didn’t let the retaliation deter him in the slightest; he wet the strand between his lips and held it closer to the light.

“I see a definite glint,” he chortled, “I’m going to keep this like some people keep baby books. I’m going to have an aging journal to pull out when I’m older, since you’ve informed me I’ve shortened your life. That way, I’ll always have the satisfaction you gave up your looks before I did,” the golden-haired demon that had been his lover snickered.

Roy made a grab for Edward’s hand, but Edward had anticipated it and snatched it clear quickly, rolling off the General and onto his side of the bed, keeping his prized hair well out of reach of fingers that would like to dispose of it and pretend it never existed.

“I don’t know what you’re so pleased about,” the General growled, “even if it is gray _(which it was not)_ , it’s a mark of sophistication and distinction, age and wisdom, things I have no problem being associated with in the slightest,” his voice took on a haughty note, “I’ve already achieved General at an impressively young age; if it was really gray _(which it wasn’t)_ you’d let me see it, but since you won’t, I can tell it’s just another of your little tricks to try and throw me off guard, because once again my advice was right as it always had been in the past. You’re very ungracious when admitting defeat, Edward,” the General continued, “a more mature mind would realize there is no shame in giving a nod where a nod is due. Professor Elric sounds good rolling off the tongue.”

“It is SO gray,” Edward emphasized, “I almost have trouble seeing it without it blending into the automail,” then Edward let out an impressive startled squawk when Roy grabbed him around the waist and pulled him back to his side of the bed, wrestling with him. The General’s longer reach captured an automail wrist, but his all too flesh muscles failed at being able to subdue it properly.

“You’re so in denial,” Edward yelled, laughter permeating his every word, as he wrapped his legs around Roy’s waist and stretched back as far as he could, battling Roy’s other hand with his flesh one, “and if you’re so sure it’s one of my tricks, why are you trying so hard to take it back from me?” his grin was wicked and amused.

“It’s my property for one thing,” the General grunted. Edward’s tactic of waist capturing and arching was making the younger man longer since he was cheating by starting at Roy’s hips. He couldn’t get any leverage, “taken in an ambush after you had lulled me into security with sex. It’s not gray and once I get it, I’m going to shove it so far up your nose, you’ll have a hairline bald spot in your vision,” he hissed.

Edward just chuckled in evil glee, easily holding his lover at bay and slowly beginning to buck against the General’s stomach, whose struggling became less and less pronounced the harder his lover’s cock grew. Finally, he dropped the hand clutching Edward’s flesh hand, but didn’t let go of the automail wrist. Edward moaned in appreciation when Roy slid his free hand over his cock, bringing it to hardness quickly and pressing it into the Roy’s stomach with each open palmed stroke he slid up and down its length.

“This is unfair distraction,” the General grumbled, “dirty tactics.”

“Umm,” Edward sighed, undulating slowly. His own free hand reached out to stroke his lover’s face and neck as he was rubbed, “wasn’t intentional,” he informed Roy huskily, “but for someone who’s getting gray hair, twice in one night will be something to receive a medal for,” he offered with a moan.

Roy’s own cock had already stirred and awakened, naturally, but he made no move other than the lazy up and down strokes he was already giving. Never miss an opportunity for payback in full, if Edward thought he was going to come anytime soon he had another thing coming. Edward must have sensed this about the same time, because he raised his head and gave Roy a look that begged forgiveness _(but not really)_ , offered one of his lovely groans to punctuate it, but the General was not swayed _(overly)_ and offered back to Edward his own slow, sly smile. Edward groaned and let his head drop back into the pillows.

“Ha,” the General said, thumbing the head of Edward’s cock and causing Edward’s stomach to jump, “guess your little tease backfired on you,” he simpered, “I’ll bet you’re sorry now.”

“Sorry?” Edward moaned, trying to arch harder into the General’s touch, “No, I’ll sleep really well tonight after getting it twice. _I_ don’t have to get up early and go into the office. I’m hard, you bastard, we both know that’s past the point of no return for either of us,” he husked.

“You manipulative little shit,” the General growled, hand never slowing, never leaving the cock it was pressing possessively against his own stomach, “if it is a goddamn gray hair, _you’re_ the one who put it there,” he hissed.

Edward gave a throaty laugh, another moan, and eventually got to come.


	2. Chapter 2

_Daniel Stanton, age thirteen, profession: note passer._

The steady click of the chalk connecting with the blackboard didn’t waver, but the yellow eyes of the Professor moved suddenly, running over his temples, above his ears and onto the back of his head, where they parted the ponytail hanging there with their incredible telekinetic eye-beam rays and stared right at Daniel Stanton, hand hanging between his and Eric Danvers’ desk, pinning him mercilessly.

“Mr. Stanton,” the Professor said, “would you care to share the wisdom you’ve so dutifully jotted down on that piece of paper, and seem in desperate need to share with Mr. Danvers, with the rest of the class?”

Daniel swallowed and fidgeted nervously, eyes darting to his companions. Eric sat rigid, eyes straight ahead, all too familiar with the cold wrath of their teacher’s yellow eyes. They seemed to have the ability to peer deep into one’s own cranium to instantly decipher any off topic thought lurking there. The way he could sniff out mischief, fear or a hidden sandwich were uncanny reminders of just who their teacher was: the legend of the dime-store novels.

Duffy, _(that would be Henry Duffy, but looked so little like a Henry and so much like a Duffy, everyone just called him that)_ , was also sitting at attention now, practically saluting. Daniel thought the lot of them traitors and knew he was to face the firing squad on his own. He sat back up slowly, tucked his hands into his lap, wet his lips and then braved speech.

“No, Professor Elric,” he said to divine retribution’s back, “I would rather not.”

Eric darted him a quick sidelong glance that spoke of his admiration for Daniel’s bravery and how he would prepare an eloquent speech for his funeral.

The figure at the black board continued out its equation to the end and then pocketed its stick of chalk. It turned to its desk and laid down the open text book it had been balancing in its right hand. Then, with a casual stride, it rounded its desk and started down the row of student desks, each heel step clicking out the doom of its intended victim. Said victim, in a fit of insane bravery or suicidal resignation, worked his hands furiously in his lap, tearing the small square of paper into as many tiny bits as he could, crushing them tightly in his sweaty fist. He saw the lower half of the Professor stop just before his desk and tried to lift his head to meet those strange eyes, but the magnet of fear had already worked its magic on his chin and was drawing it hard, down to his chest.

A white, gloved hand extended (the real hand, Daniel noted). The Professor always saved the scary _(but really cool)_ metal hand for _special_ occasions. Daniel saw the fingers move slightly, just once, the signal that patience was ending and a hauling out of the classroom by the ear would be imminent. Daniel swallowed and overcame the magnetic fear-field surrounding his body and lifted his hands slowly, gritting his teeth as he struggled against the foot soldiers of doom guarding the pathways of his nerves. He managed to get a message through to central command to tell his hand to unclench, which it did, dropping the ball of paper shreds into the white, gloved palm.

“Ah, what’s this?” the Professor said above his head, “it seems your note has had a mishap. I think this can be remedied… and used as a practical demonstration at the same time.”

There was now general _(if polite)_ excitement as the Professor kneeled next to Daniel’s desk and the whole classroom began to gather around. Daniel found himself meeting the gaze of the man, raging inwardly at the smirk on his features, and realizing just what a pointless gesture tearing up the note actually was. Not only had he done the forbidden _off-topic_ gesture, it would now be even more of a spectacle than if he’d just handed the note over quietly and took what was coming to him. The Professor was a man who loved to revel in audacity, for he had plenty of it himself, and he wasn’t above a little public humiliation to get his point across. In fact, he seemed to be living out some vindictive streak in that direction, seeing as how many a boy in the class had worn shame-reddened cheeks since the beginning of the school year, and that had only been a month ago.

But Daniel despaired of this particular shame, knowing it was not only going to cause trouble for himself, but for a friend, a friend he would give anything to protect. If he’d only handed the note over, not tried to mask it in useless subterfuge, he might have stood a better chance of reasoning the Professor out of reading it aloud. The man was, no matter how rigid on certain things, very fair. He watched gloomily as the Professor drew a simple chalk circle on the floor and then began to add into it the elements needed to reconstruct the paper.

“What are we doing?” the Professor asked the class in general.

 _Seth Winston, age twelve, profession: suck-up._

Seth’s hand was in the air almost before the questions left Professor Elric’s lips. The Professor hesitated a moment, waiting for other hands _(of which he got a few)_ before calling on Seth, because his hand was up first and fair is fair.

“Understanding, deconstruction, reconstruction!” the boy in the thick glasses chirped, looking hopeful and leaning over his desk.

“Very good, it’s nice to know the lot of you do pay attention,” and he looked pointedly at Daniel as he said it, drawing another symbol in the circle. “What is this symbol?” he asked in general again. This time he skipped Seth and instead looked at Daniel’s own little gang of supporters, of which Duffy had begun to sweat profusely.

“Henry,” the Professor said, “would you care to take a closer look and hazard a guess?” he prodded.

Duffy squirmed around in his chair, his already straining uniform pulling at his middle and opening the vista of the white undershirt beneath the buttons wider for all to see. Daniel set his jaw, it was really unfair of the Professor to make his mistake Duffy’s as well. Daniel’s peripheral vision caught movement and so must have Professor Elric’s, because he turned his head to look at Eric across the isle and Eric’s face went a shade paler than the fish belly white it already was. His lips became a quivering line, he’d been pantomiming to Duffy, or at least trying to. Daniel doubted Duffy would have a clue as to what the word pantomime meant, but now he was caught out as well.

“Is there something you’d like to add, Eric Danvers?” the Professor’s voice was just this side of frigid and Eric shook his head frantically, pleading to Daniel with his eyes for a brief second.

 _I am not a coward,_ Daniel Stanton told himself and with that, found his voice.

“It’s the symbol for ‘earth’, Professor,” he said loudly. The yellow eyes swung to him and the matching eyebrows rose slightly, “because paper is made from wood and that would be the… equiv… equiva…” he tried.

“Equivalent,” the Professor supplied, looking thoughtful for a moment and then let Eric and Duffy go, “That’s partially right, at any rate.”

The Professor placed the little ball of shreds in the circle and everyone _(Daniel included. How could you not hold your breath and feel the rush? The FullMetal Alchemist was about to perform Alchemy for your own private viewing pleasure!)_ leaned forward in wide-eyed anticipation, many jockeying-for-position battles ensued.

Like he always did, the Professor waited for the room to settle before touching his fingers to the edge of the circle. White and blue flares arced up and leapt for the ceiling, there were many appreciative gasps and one small groan of denial.

The folded note lay good as new in the middle of the circle.

***

Alphonse strode into the office, saluting as he walked. The Colonel was elsewhere in the building, but it was always polite to offer acknowledgements. First Lieutenant Pharr gave him a jaunty one right back as the young alchemist came over to the table and took a seat.

“How was the trip?” Pharr asked, eager to take a break from his paperwork and leaning on the table.

“Did you find out anything about our mystery creature?” Second Lieutenant Marilyn Harper asked from her end of the table. Alphonse grinned at her; she was pretty and sweet, always proficient and inquisitive, and just as hungry for knowledge as Alphonse in some things. If she wasn’t a fellow officer, he would even consider asking her on a date, but this woman was being molded under the formidable eye of her idol Colonel Hawkeye _(and a very impressive idol to have… next to the Pirate)_ and would recite to him by rote military protocol, just as the Colonel did. So, Alphonse has already placed her firmly into the category of ‘friend’, as he had the General’s friend Anna Wagoner, when he’d first met her.

“No, it was a bust,” Alphonse sighed, and since the Colonel wasn’t in the office, he allowed himself the luxury of leaning his chin on the table, “Whatever it is, the locals all have varying stories about it. I’m hoping it’s not some suffering chimera. I felt bad I had to leave and come back to make the trip to Central this weekend, but it’s waited this long, it can wait a little longer.”

“Been out with April again?” Pharr asked, thrusting work aside for the more important things, at least the more important things while the Colonel wasn’t in attendance.

“Oh,” Al said with a shrug, “No. She was nice and all, but I’ve been busy and well then there was this mission…”

Pharr sat back in his chair and folded his arms, studied Al frankly and rubbed his chin.

“I think it’s the ponytail,” Pharr said, “It makes you look pretty young. Maybe if you cut it off?” he suggested.

Al sat up and reached back to finger the length of hair hanging down the back of his neck. He hadn’t even thought about it for a while, as long as it was tied back it was easy to keep out of his way and he trimmed his bangs himself. Would cutting it off really make him look older? Wait, what was Pharr inferring here? Was his ability to score zero written so plainly on his features?

“I like Al’s ponytail,” Marilyn offered, “his hair is lovely, I don’t see any reason why he shouldn’t show it off by wearing it long, his brother does.”

That was a double edged compliment. On one hand, Marilyn liked his ponytail, the justification he needed to keep it; on the other hand, Marilyn inferred it reminded him of Ed, an association he didn’t want to break in the brotherly sense but one he wanted distance from. He wanted to be Alphonse Elric, not Edward Elric’s little brother.

  
The Colonel came striding in then and nodded at the table with a slight smile; Alphonse always liked to think the smile was there because he was. He tapped his fingers on the table a moment then, made a decision, stood and walked to the big desk.

“Sir, have you a moment, if you’re not busy? It’s more of a personal question as opposed to military business,” he said.

The Colonel gave him a nod as she slid into her seat behind her desk and laid her meeting notes in front of her.

“Of course, Alphonse. You know that I’m here for you, is something bothering you?” she asked with polite sincerity.

Alphonse fidgeted now, feeling ridiculous from bringing up such a frivolous subject, but she’s gone to the trouble of giving him her attention, he had to follow through. Why is it she could make him feel twelve again without even trying?

“I was wondering if you,” he took a deep breath and plunged ahead, “think my hair would look better short?” he tried to look very sincere and contemplative on the subject, as if it held great weight and only the wise counsel of his superior officer could help to ease his burdened mind.

Her eyebrows lifted just a fraction; Alphonse knew this was ‘surprise’. She was so frustratingly hard to read he was surprised he had any categorized facial references for her at all, but this was most definitely ‘surprised’. He’d seen it before when he was fourteen and had been caught hanging upside down from a vent duct outside the mess hall that he’d tried to crawl through to prove to himself that he could. For some reason he always thought he was too big… and pointy.

“Well Alphonse,” he got a little thrill at her use of his given name, but she always used it when the business was personal and not military, “I think that decision really lies with you. I think you have nice hair and you always wear it so neatly that it’s not a true breach of dress code since longer hair is allowable in the ranks.”

Her advice was really no advice at all, just a gentle nudge for him to make his own decision, which was proper and in the long run the only one that mattered. It was so typical of her to be so wise and caring, but wait; did she perhaps intimate she liked his long hair? She said it was ‘allowable’ and ‘not a breach of protocol’, and that in itself spoke volumes of her acceptance. If she took the trouble to notice she liked his longer hair, then perhaps in that turn, she meant she liked _him_. Unbidden, his mind turned to this incredible revelation.

If she liked his hair _(and therefore liked him)_ , then maybe she was just biding her time, waiting for his decommission and resignation, and then, on that very day, he could rush back to East City and _ask her on a date_. He would be eighteen then and he just wouldn’t tell Ed what he was doing. His mind’s eye suddenly traipsed to a scene of him entering her office, dressed in a dark and somber, conservative manner to her liking, hair pulled back neatly and shoes shiny. He would approach her desk and salute her out of respect even though he was no longer enlisted. Magically, his voice would have dropped even further by then, perhaps he’d be even taller _(even though he was a bit taller than she was right now)_ , and he would have coached himself through his proposal of dinner and _movie?_ , _dancing?_ , _firing range?_ , by then.

She would do her surprised eyebrow twitch and then she might hesitate, considering her options, but in the end, because she had always _liked_ him, _(and his hair)_ she would agree. Then Alphonse Elric would truly be a man, not a boy or a shadow of his famous brother. He lifted his clenched fist and put it over his heart, eyes shining, sucking in his bottom lip. Yes, these could be the happiest moments of his life _(next to getting Ed back)_ and he would cherish them forever.

“Lieutenant Colonel,” a voice lifted him from his haze of euphoria, “was there anything else you needed to ask me?” she said in a prodding manner. Alphonse snapped to and saluted, feeling his cheeks heat up. He wondered miserably how long had he been standing there looking like a complete fool.

“Nu... no. Thank you, Colonel. I need to go pack and get to the train station,” he said faintly, feeling the heat of his blush skip gleefully from his cheeks to his neck.

“Very well then, you are dismissed for the day. Catch an early afternoon train, and say hello to your brother and the General for me,” she said in her usual conversational tones, a blessing she was not making him twitch since she had him pinned. Ed needed lessons from the woman.

Alphonse dropped his salute and bowed forward a bit, turned, avoided looking at the big table as not to meet Pharr’s mirthful, glinted eyes and fled the office as fast as an orderly walk would take him.

Unlike home, or the General’s office in Central, no unbridled shout of laughter that had just been barely contained in his presence erupted after he got into the hall.

She was the consummate professional, after all.

***

Practicing arrays should be illegal. It was so very, exceedingly, dull.

At least to a group of boys in a classroom in an academy where a man with yellow eyes watched them like they might be edible, seeming to smirk when they trembled.

The note incident had ended with a surprising anti-climax. The Professor had opened the note, scanned it quickly, refolded it and stuck it in his pocket with a brief look at Daniel Stanton that said discussion was clearly to follow, just not in front of the class. Daniel had watched the Professor walk back to his desk with his own jaw slack in amazement. When the Professor told them to get out their sketchbooks and practice arrays, he leapt to do so out of gratitude and a sudden feeling of camaraderie. He would have to thank the Professor profusely after class for not making him into a laughing stock.

The classroom door swung partially open and every pair of eyes in the room, including the Professor’s swung toward it. A man leaned in the doorway and looked around, then stepped into the classroom and put his hands on his trim hips, smiling at the boys.

He had on a tailored looking _sweat suit_ of all things. His dark hair was immaculate and his jaw was square; his smile was shiny, white and bright and when he spoke, his voice was deep and authoritative, but a touch jovial and soothing, like he was your best friend, or your father, or idol.

“Say boys,” he said, “I’m looking for Professor Edric,” he intoned, “has he stepped out of the class?”

Bernard Martin, whose desk it was the Professor had stopped at when the door opened, made a sound like a small trapped animal and tried vainly to become one with his wooden chair, cringing away from the figure in front of him. Steel fingers drummed once on his desktop. There was a small collective gasp and scooting of desk chairs all around that vicinity, they all knew what a slighted Professor could do, having witnessed it themselves on the very first day of class.

***

Daniel and his gang were all hanging around a center group of desks they had pushed together when _he_ walked in. He was dressed in civvies, not a uniform, and he had a ponytail, like a _girl_. It had been one long, endless summer of his mother’s social gatherings and his father’s attempts at bonding; he was just itching to get back into the swing of academy life, where his could flex and posture and impress his companions, effectively shaking off all the culture his parents had rubbed all over him during his free months. So, when the new kid walked in, looking a little lost and inquisitive, he was sure his school year would be far from dull.

They’d gestured to him. He had funny yellow eyes, kind of like a cat, and he arched his eyebrow once before heading over slowly, walking up to the group and looking at them one by one. He and Daniel stood eye to eye, while Eric towered over them both in his gawky fashion, but the new guy didn’t look up at him either. Duffy was almost eye to eye with him, and Seth, actually being a year younger than the rest of them, came just to his nose. They all eyed him back, taking in his clothes, his hair, and offering in return a challenging smirk, well practiced in the tradition of schoolyard pecking order.

“What’s with the clothes,” Daniel said, “uniform in the wash? It’s first day, you know, you had time to get it clean, or you ain’t got one yet?” he drawled.

A lazy smirk of his own cut across the guy’s mouth as he put his hands on his hips. That’s when Daniel noticed the gloves and his own challenging grin widened.

“Did your Mom dress you? You know we aren’t that formal around here, would hate to see those dainty white gloves get dirty,” Daniel furthered before the new guy got a word in edgewise.

The other three chuckled appreciatively. Daniel was the wittiest among them, capable of deadly, lightening fast come backs. They rarely challenged him.

The new guy’s grin had gone slowly into a scowl and his yellow eyes seemed to brighten. He seemed to have trouble with his jaw, because he had it clenched real tight and he had just a bit of a shake, like he was holding something in. He flared his nostrils to release the steam of his inner turmoil and Daniel folded his arms, wondering how long he could hold out as he started preparing another round of barbs for the next step into the ring, but the class bell rang first.

They were soldier’s kids after all. Immediately, desks began to realign themselves and everyone had already scuffled over where they were going to sit, but Daniel had an idea for the new guy and thought he should share it.

“Why don’t you sit up front, Ponytail,” he snickered, “with your girly looks and fancy suit you got teacher’s pet written all over you,” his gang of three snickered along with him as they gave the new guy mocking glances before retreating to their own seats.

Ponytail stood stock still for several long moments, still with that tight-jawed look of struggling for control, then he began to stalk toward the front of the class. He got a few catcall whistles and comments about his hair on the way, other boys picking up on Daniel’s glee, but he threw himself into a desk at the very front of the classroom and stared straight ahead, panting.

They all waited in silence, but after long moments had slipped by and no Professor seemed to be forth coming, a low murmur descended over the class again.

“Do you really think it’s the real FullMetal Alchemist?” Boyd Harding said from the back of the room, “I mean, you know, like the one in the books?”

Ponytail made a visible jerk at this, but remained silent, staring straight ahead. Daniel leaned back, lacing his fingers and putting them behind his head, stretching his legs out as far as he could.

“Let’s ask Ponytail. A guy dressed up like that should be really smart,” he threw out. Now that he had a victim, his school year would be complete, “do you know if he’s the real FullMetal Alchemist, Ponytail?” Daniel called up to the front of the class.

“If it is, he’s got to be really old,” Seth supplied, “my older brother read all those books forever ago,” because when you are twelve, two or three years _is_ forever.

“Do you think he’ll have Alphonse with him, or we’ll get to meet him?” Richard Timbers asked, “I always liked Al, but they never did much with him. You think the FullMetal Alchemist will let us meet him and see his steam-powered suit of armor?”

There was much pondering and speculation about that, with general murmurs and knowing nods, crossing of arms and teenage beating of chests. Even if their teacher _was_ the real, legendary, FullMetal Alchemist, they were still younger, smarter and in Academy _(even though it would be really cool to like, brag that your teacher was the FullMetal Alchemist)_. They hadn’t met a professor, doctor or instructor they couldn’t drive to distraction yet.

Ponytail suddenly stood up and Daniel locked on target.

“You’re going to get your pansy-ass in trouble if the FullMetal Alchemist catches you out of your seat when he comes in,” Daniel offered with evil glee, “no matter how pretty you are in your ponytail,” he chortled.

Ponytail seemed to have gotten himself under control, for he marched to the big desk, turned to face the class and shrugged of his jacket, lying it on the desk. As he began to unbutton his vest, every eyebrow in the classroom climbed rapidly and all attention became riveted at the front of the class where the new guy, dubbed Ponytail, seemed intent on giving them a strip tease.

The vest followed the jacket onto the desk, then a tie, then the dress shirt was untucked and unbuttoned, but before it came off, Ponytail slowly and methodically peeled off his gloves one by one. The front of the class, that could see better, let out a sudden explosive gasp. Daniel watched as Ponytail shucked out of his shirt and glinted in the dull overhead light. His teeth became sharp, his tongue long and forked, and his eyes turned from cat-yellow to scary, fire-molten orbs. He held up his right arm, his automail, METAL, right arm and with volume enough to cause the desks to jump, Ponytail proclaimed once and for all.

“YES, HE IS THE REAL FUCKING FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST”, his forked tongue slithered in and out of his cavernous mouth. He walked around his desk then, bare-chested, raised the arm and slammed it down on the desk. The desk shrieked like a girl, making a sound like every tree in the vicinity was crying out in pain, as he pinned them again with evil light seeping from under his eyelids.

“ARE THERE ANYMORE QUESTIONS?! ABOUT MY HAIR, ABOUT MY CLOTHES, ABOUT MY HEIGHT _(even though no one had mentioned that)_ THAT I NEED TO ANSWER BEFORE WE GET STARTED?!” he howled.

No one could think of a blessed one.

***

The man barging in on his class _(marked for death, obviously)_ came in and looked the Professor over with an indulgent chuckle.

“You can go on back to your seat, I won’t tell him you were wandering about,” he said in that, ‘I’m your buddy’ kind of way adults do when they think they are doing you a favor, “and what’s with the civilian clothes? Uniform in the wash?”

Gibbers of fear were heard all around. The man looked around, confused, as the Professor turned to face him slowly. Bernard appeared to faint and slump over his desk, and the man raised his eyebrow, looking at the Professor again.

“Is there something wrong with this boy? Should we fetch the school doctor?” he asked.

 _Maybe for YOU,_ several minds though at once.

“He’s fine,” the Professor hissed in a voice that made every adolescent nightmare half remembered in every adolescent brain in the room writhe in jealousy, “I’m Professor ELRIC,” the Professor annunciated loudly, “to what do I owe this pleasure,” he snarled.

The man looked Ed up and down for a moment, then held out his hand and grinned. There were several more gasps and winces because the boys had never seen a real live dismemberment before and watched through opened fingers even as they covered their faces with their hands.

“I’m Professor Thaddeus Taylor, but you can call me Thad.” he grinned a most charming grin and yet still managed to make it look slimy. The Professor forced his hand up and took the other man’s, shaking it once before releasing it and looking like he wanted to wipe his glove on something.

“Edward Elric, Professor Elric is fine. You are standing in my Alchemic Basics class and I’m wondering why,” the Professor grated out.

“You know, from your rep I thought you’d be taller, but as they say, big things in small packages. You caused quite the buzz in the staff room, let me tell you,” and he patted the Professor’s shoulder in that manner one does when one is humoring someone they are looking down on. The man continued on, seemingly oblivious to the gathering storm clouds in the room and several boys wondered if they could make running dives through the window in time to avoid the blast, but one boy was becoming more and more incensed with the casual and condescending way this man was treating _their_ Professor. Ok, their Professor? When did that happen? When he didn’t rat you out to the class, you dork? You know if that equivalent exchange thing was really true you had that coming for the whole ‘Ponytail’ thing, but never mind that, he can’t talk to him like this, what does he think he’s doing… Before Daniel Stanton knew it, his voice rang out loud and clear, silencing the man standing with the Professor.

“He’s the FullMetal Alchemist,” Daniel said, proud and defiant, “Just who the heck are you?” he flung out. His eyes widened when he realized he was talking to teachers and that he had stood up while he was doing it. He started to sink back down before Divine Retribution could light into him, but from the look on the Professor’s face, the odd little look, Daniel got the feeling that wasn’t going to happen.

“Yeah, “ the Professor said, suddenly with a big cocky grin, “Who the hell are you anyway, Thad?”

The man removed is hand from the Professor’s shoulder, looking a little taken aback, but then his grin returned full force.

“Why, I’m the physical education instructor,” he said, “I’m here to see if you’d lend me my boy Boyd there,” Professor Taylor pointed and Boyd, as large as he was _(a good head and half over the professor and just as broad, if not broader, at the shoulder)_ , tried to make himself small, as not to provoke the Professor’s ire, that this person who was harassing him in his very own classroom was acknowledging an acquaintance with him.

“Why?” the Professor said, looking at Boyd in a reassuring fashion that said ‘Just because this man is a moron, I won’t hold it against you’.

“He’s our new lineman and we’re having a meeting down the hall. My assistant coaches and I wanted to introduce him around, won’t take a sec, glad you’re such a sport, come on Boyd,” Professor Taylor called.

Professor Elric looked askance and started to object, but Professor Taylor was already striding for the door. Boyd had not moved a muscle, eyes glued to the smaller man in front of the classroom, deferring him authority to the interloper, but Professor Elric nodded and Boyd stood up to follow the other man glumly.

“If you don’t make it back before the bell,” Professor Elric said to Boyd as he passed, “make sure to read chapter eight tonight. I’ll have one of the others share notes with you so you won’t be behind.”

It was the kindest thing the Professor had ever said to _any_ of them and the whole class gazed in wonder, but then a few knowing glances turned to the visage of their emancipator, a one Daniel Stanton, who has stood up, spoke out of turn and defended their teacher, and in doing so, delivered them all.

 

**

 

The General unlocked his front door, opened it quietly and stuck his head in. Silence greeted him, but he stood a moment more before moving in with stealth and gently shutting the door behind him. He took off his great coat, trying to suppress the rustle of fabric as he hung it on the hall hook and then with the lightest steps he could, he started down the front hallway.

  
He urged himself to be extra quiet near the door of the den, but in only a month’s teaching time, Edward the prodigy had already developed the fine tuned senses needed to keep track of a gaggle of teenage boys… ironic, that.

“Roy?” came the voice from the den. The General sighed and turned to lean in the doorway. Ed smiled at him engagingly, then with the fingers of his flesh hand, he scooted a pile of papers back and forth on his desk.

“Help me grade papers?” he asked pleasantly, smile still in place.

Roy leaned on the doorframe and sighed, letting his temple rest against it too.

“But I’m a General,” he said plaintively, “you’re the teacher,” he tried to do it charmingly to wiggle his way out of a dull evening with a red pen in his hand, but the smile on Ed’s face faded abruptly and Edward looked down at the paper he was working on.

“Fine,” Ed said flatly, “dinner is ready and in the oven, I’m sure you can handle getting your own,” he made a mark on the paper.

Oh no, he made dinner. He had been smiling and nice, and Roy alternately loved and hated Ed’s maneuverability in the get-the-General-to-do-what-he-wanted department, but what else was there for it? He made Roy _dinner_ , not bought it, made it. His cooking skills had improved so much _(thank you Alex)_ , he had his hair loose, he was wearing a t-shirt that was slightly too big for him and he had on his glasses.

Edward really was good at this heart-string thing.

“Alright,” Roy said, “let me change out of this uniform and I’ll help you. Will you at least eat dinner with me?”

The smile reappeared twice as bright. Ed took off his glasses and got up, walked around the desk to him, wrapped his arms around him and leaned up for a kiss.

“I’ll do you one better. While you change, I’ll heat it up and get the plates out,” he purred and got a second kiss for it. Then he let the General head for the bedroom while he headed for the kitchen.

***

“Something happened in class today,” Ed said, waving his fork momentarily, “I met one of the other teachers, he like just barged in and demanded one of my students for some sports thing… I mean the kid was in _alchemy_ class…” the way Ed said it, Roy knew that Ed thought his was the only class in the whole of the Academy worth anything. Naturally, it made Roy smile.

“That’s shocking,” Roy said, and took a sip of his tea, “to think they’d pull a boy out for just sports, out of your class,” he grinned.

“Okay you sanctimonious bastard, enough already. It was really what sort of happened before I let Boyd go with Trevor, no wait, Taylor. So this guy comes in and I get mistaken for a student _again_ ,” Ed growled, “and he’s being all touchy feely on my shoulder,” Ed snorted.

Roy knew that Edward disliked being touched by strangers and was impressed that he wasn’t talking to Edward from a jail cell, where he had been incarcerated for breaking the man’s arm.

“And you know I have to be polite in front of the kids because they pick up all kinds of shit and then, you know, you get in trouble if the kid goes home and uses a _curse word_ in front of his parents…” Ed grunted.

Roy kept his mouth firmly shut, knowing that in the month Ed had been with the Academy, he’d had to ‘chat’ with the Dean twice on that subject.

“So Daniel stands up and yells out to this guy that I’m the FullMetal Alchemist, acting all offended. Not sure what that was about,” Ed said, but looked pleased nonetheless, and sort of proud. Roy’s smile grew as his own mind gestured to a tall, lanky, blonde Lieutenant Colonel who stood with his hand on his hip in a slightly cocky manner, staring the rude officer down and saying in causal defense, “You might want to watch what you’re saying, this is a General, you know”, in that mess-with-him-mess-with-me tone.

“Daniel and Boyd? Those are first names, I don’t believe I’ve heard you refer to any of your students by their first names before,” Roy said causally, warmth spreading through his belly, patting himself on the back for such an excellent decision when the opening had come to his attention.

“Well, it’s not like they don’t have them,” Ed said, starting on his salad, “ I just have them listed on roll call by their last names,” Ed shrugged, “anyway, after the whole thing, Daniel comes up to me because he had been in trouble earlier for note passing, but I gave him his note back and we sort of nodded at each other. I don’t know, I always read way too much into situations,” Ed said off handedly and reached for the pepper.

“Alphonse called me today. He’s on the train, he’ll be here Friday,” Roy said, “do we have any plans?”

Ed grinned at his younger brother’s name and shook his head, finishing with the pepper and reaching for the salt as he sucked salad dressing off the tip of an automail digit. Roy often wondered if Edward no longer had the ability to taste metal, the way he was always jamming his automail into this mouth was his first clue. The couple of times the automail had found its way into Roy’s mouth during love making, the older alchemist had a metallic aftertaste for about an hour.

“I have no plans,” Ed said, “other than being happy my brother is home. Should we make some? Maybe go out or something? Or wait and see what Al wants to do? Let’s do that, let Al pick something for us to do. He’s here for a week, right? Did he tell you?”

Roy was used to being the buffer by now, the way the brothers occasionally communicated. Little by little over the last year, Edward had accepted, if not with grace, that this ‘new’ Al leaned a bit more on the General than himself. Plus, it was disruptive to call during a class, but not disruptive to call a General trying to avoid paperwork, so during the workday, if Al had to call, he called Roy. They’d both agreed Ed having a job was a fine way of making it so they could communicate by phone again.

“Two weeks, I believe,” the General said, finishing off his meal and wiping his mouth, laying the napkin on the table, “he mentioned wanting to spend some time at the library, which will be fine during the times you’re in class,” Roy said.

“Really? Two?” Ed grinned. It was more of that heart-string thing, the way Edward looked forward to Alphonse’s visits, the way he measured their time together and tried to think of how it could best be spent by the two of them. He wasn’t so methodical with he and Roy’s time because they had all the time in the world now, but each moment with Alphonse was precious to him, because Roy knew that Ed was sensing that the older Alphonse grew, the shorter these times might be. Alphonse was going to go off at some point and start his life, which was good, right and natural, but for an elder brother who missed so much of seeing him grow to begin with, it was a little hard.

“Let’s go grade papers and have dessert after in bed,” the General coaxed gently and his lover smiled in appreciation.

“Ummm,” Ed said, “chocolate covered General, my favorite!”

Roy laughed.

***

Their fingertips hit the same last paper at the same time and they grinned at each other. Ed started at the bottom and Roy started at the top _(grading upside down)_. They met in the middle, did a brief mock pen battle over the last question, then they both snorted in laughter and then they were kissing.

Hot and wet and tongues surging, Ed crawled up onto the desk and slid his arms over Roy’s shoulders. Roy wrapped his hands around Ed’s waist, pulling him against his body, and they ground against each other, both moaning and delving and tasting.

Roy yanked him over the desk, got him on his feet and walked him backwards into the wall beside the door where he could brace him while trying to suck his soul out through his mouth and where he could grind his hard, hot cock with more power into Ed’s crotch and lower stomach. Ed made deep sounds, hungry and aching as he arched hard into Roy’s pelvic gyrations, adding his own and bracing his back on the wall for more leverage to push against Roy. They continued in this manner for several long moments before Ed shoved him away forcefully and dragged his flesh arm over his mouth.

“You get in the fucking bedroom,” Ed growled, “I need to stop by the kitchen,” he said, yanking off his glasses that had miraculously stayed on the entire time and tossing them at the desk, not caring if they missed and skittered across the floor. “What the fuck are you still standing here for?” Ed snarled, “You better be naked when I get in there.”

So, it was to be this way tonight. Roy couldn’t suppress the shudder that ran his frame any more than he could keep from backing away from his advancing lover. When he gained the hall, he turned and forced himself to walk to length to the bedroom, hearing Ed’s distinctive footsteps follow him partway, but turn off into the kitchen area.

***

Roy pulled his shirt over his head and let it drop. He kicked out of his pants and thigh long briefs in the same manner, letting them stay where they fell. Ed liked it that way, he liked to walk in and see the clothing he commanded be shed lying on the floor.

Before his disappearance, Ed’s lovemaking had begun subtle changes. His simple yielding had started to give way somewhat, his lips and hands had become more attentive and his wants had started to surface. He had just come to the edge of demand, which to Roy was a signpost of the advancing sexual maturity he had wanted to develop in his lover. Ed had just begun to force Roy’s hands where he wanted them to go, to tell Roy in low, husky growls when it was not hard enough, not fast enough, when he wanted more and when he wanted less. All these things that Roy savored disappeared with the boy that fateful night, never to return.

What had returned was sculpted and molded by Ed’s own desires and experiences where Roy could not follow. Ed had come into his understanding on his own, he had a pronounced aggression that had just been budding, but was harder chiseled now than it might have been had he stayed in Roy’s bed, under Roy.

It was unnerving at first, the clench of metal on his wrists, the grit of teeth and flash of heat in his lovers young face, the way he _demanded_ what he had never asked before. In the beginning, when Ed was new to him again, it was almost like being in bed with a stranger. Roy was not used to surrendering his control and in the beginning, even without intention, he fought against it. But Ed was physically stronger, more combat agile and his need much heavier and harder to deny than it had ever been in his youth.

Roy pulled the covers down on their bed, moved up onto it and settled back in the pillows. He didn’t pull the sheets up, there was no point. Ed would hiss and snatch them away if he came in to his lover covered; it seemed to anger him to no end, like it was defiance. He settled into the pillows, arranging them under his neck and pulling one out to the side, in easy reach of an automail hand in case he decided he’s rather not see Roy’s face in his passion. But, the norm of it was that he usually preferred it, as he called it, ‘sweet side up’.

Roy still wasn’t sure how he felt about this. He enjoyed it, Edward could make him shake and cry out, make his body arch and tremble and _feel_ , but he wondered if it was perhaps a bit unfair of him to still harbor doubts after all these months. This was hardly the first time Edward had made it clear who would be servicing who in bed that night.

 _You are never satisfied,_ ah this might be true, Roy decided. He distinctly remembers yearning for his lover’s maturity, but now he finds a part of him longs for his lover’s earlier vulnerability, when he lay trembling in a Colonel’s arms after having been brought to completion.

Edward stopped all further musing by his mere presence. He strode into the room with an aura of oppression surrounding him; his eyes clawed at Roy’s form on the bed as he tossed a bottle onto the foot of it, dragged his shirt up and off, and kicked off his pants without ceremony. He stalked to the end of the bed and climbed onto it, pushing the bottle before him as he went and pressing its cold surface to Roy’s side as not to lose it or let it roll away.

“The honeymoon is definitely over,” the General snorted and shied a moment from the coolness, “maybe I should like, pre-lube for you and just have my knees up around my ears when you walk in,” he said dryly.

Ed hung over him a moment, scowling down at him. He made a snort and looked off to the side a moment, like he was thinking, then he looked back at the General and grinned.

“Hey baby, you’re looking really hot lying here all naked and waiting, I guess you couldn’t wait for me, huh? You look really fuckable, I promise to make it good,” Ed said and leaned down to kiss Roy’s bare stomach.

Roy rolled his eyes, sighed and spread his legs.

“Here, dig in, who am I to stop you? After all, you’re going to smear Al’s homemade chocolate sauce all over me and lick it off while growling like an animal. It’s not like that’s a bad thing, but you know I’d like a little change up in your routine every once and while if you don’t mind. Not that you fucking me senseless doesn’t have it’s appeal, but really Edward, I’m a bit hurt. I never taught you how to be in a rut in bed,” Roy stretched then, put his arms over his head and raised his eyebrow at the blonde who had lifted his head and was regarding him wryly, his bangs hanging in his eyes.

Ed sat back on his heels and put his hands on his hips, puffed up his cheeks and blew upwards toward his bangs with no real effect.

“Are you calling me sexually dull?” Edward demanded, “Is that what you are getting at? Now I’m the one who’s hurt, you certainly howl like a fuckin’ banshee when I’m going at you! I’ve never heard you complain before, I thought you liked chocolate sauce! Why are you bringing this up now… wait, you want to be on top tonight, that’s it, isn’t it?”

“Noooo,” Roy said, “what I’m saying is that you don’t have a romantic bone in your body,” Roy lifted his hand back to his face and studied his nails, “I suppose I never got to properly teach you to woo anyone besides giving gifts, each one I enjoyed immensely I might add,” he said to forestall the hurt huff that had threatened.

“I just told you that you looked fuckin’ hot,” Ed complained, “how is that not romantic?”

Roy clasped the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and rubbed in a circular motion, closing his eye.

“Your vocabulary has its time and its uses. Your proclivity to color the air with many a colorful epitaph can serve, at times, to set the mood when I’m feeling the need to be ‘jack hammered’, one of your more colorful descriptive phrases I might add, or if I wish to be ‘pounded through the mattress’, another of your delightful descriptive phrases that is a particular favorite of mine. But perhaps one night I might appreciate a bit more…” Roy waved his hand, “seduction? Amour? Allurement? I don’t know, surprise me. I’m not saying that I am better at topping than you are, before you get that silly notion in your head, but I am saying I have better variety. Instead of being insulted you should take it as constructive criticism,” the General said.

“You are the master of fucking bullshit,” Edward snarled, “you can’t whoop me in a fair fight to be on top, like it should be. I say he who pounds all comers gets to be king of the hill, so you try to confuse me with that simpering fuck-headed double talk you use around the office that makes everyone think you’re so smart, we’ll I’m smart too, ass-wipe and I’m not letting you on top because you decided to complain with pretty words.”

Roy sat up, leaning back on his hands and they glared at each other for a few moments. Roy regarded Ed with his mouth drawn flat.

“Let me give you a better example,” Roy said, “do you remember a night, perhaps a couple of months ago now, when I thought it would be nice for us to walk though the plaza near Central City Square and talk and have dinner before we went home for the evening? I was trying to set a _mood_. But instead, you found the one person in the whole of Central that I not only knew, but had to deal with on behalf of my position the very same week and you made fun of his pants, where he could hear you doing it, I might add.”

Ed made a helpless shrug, wiggled his fingers and sucked in his lower lips.

“It is not my fault it looked like the guy had taken a dump in them,” Ed said, “if you don’t want baggy pants, go to a better tailor. I swear they were swinging back and forth on his wide load ass; he looked like he was carrying cargo! I shouldn’t have pointed and laughed, I admit that now, but come on, you thought it was funny too, I know you did. Plus I gave you three, count them, three make up blowjobs that week, I even did one on my knees in the living room, and you said you forgave me. But oh no, here you go bringing it up again, just like I knew you would, because that’s how you operate, you save things up to use them at times like this. I am going to be on top tonight ROY,” Ed emphasized, “and you are not talking me out of it.”

More glaring came next and then Ed _moved_. His hand came up and blocked the foot aimed at the side of his head and he slammed the leg down, lunging onto the General, knocking him back into the pillows and grabbing one of his wrists to pin it. Roy arched and bucked beneath him, lips pulling back in a snarl as he slammed his free hand against an automail shoulder in an attempt to dislodge his lover, but to no avail. He merely got that hand caught and similarly pinned above his head. With both wrists secured in an unbreakable steel grip, Ed’s hand was free to roam and conquer. He shoved his steel knee between Roy’s legs with a tsking noise as Roy attempted to close them.

“And you call yourself a General,” Ed leered in a nasty grin, “that was a piss poor ambush, sir,” he exulted, “I expected much better than that,” Ed’s flesh fingers dragged through black hair, coarse and heavy at the juncture of Roy’s legs. He caught the head of Roy’s cock between his thumb and forefinger, and squeezed. Roy gasped and shuddered, tried to twist, but remained pinned. He swung his face back to glare up at the golden eyes grinning down at him in a smug and hungry way.

“You little shit,” the General hissed and Ed grinned wickedly as he slid his hand down Roy’s hardening cock, gripped it as he gave a hard tug and pull. Roy gasped and resumed struggling to free his wrists, twisting his body, trying to avoid the hand even though it was, they both knew it, as hopeless as it was inevitable. Everything Roy had said leading up to this, Ed’s ‘routine’, was a ruse to entice him, to bring forward the aggressor he both had fear of and craved. He knew when the playfulness ended and the true seduction began, the change in Ed’s eyes, the way his breathing deepened, the pressure on Roy’s pinned wrists and the slide and pull of dry friction that was quickly becoming uncomfortable. Roy knew the game now; he’d have to play good for a moment, to allow Ed to get oil, so they could continue comfortably. He signaled his acceptance by relaxing and licking his lips, arching to those squeezing fingers. Ed eyed him a second, then slowly released his wrists, hand hovering a moment in case Roy moved. When he didn’t, when he was a good boy, Edward reached over to snag the bottle of oil from the bedside, stopped the delightful and torturous manipulation of Roy’s cock long enough to slick up his hand, then the steel fingers gripped his wrists once more and the flesh fingers captured Roy’s cock again.

Ed had strong fingers and a firm grip. He knew Roy now, knew the pressure he liked, the speed he desired, and he always held off to just the edge of what Roy wanted, enticing sounds from the older man, half gasped directions, arches and twists of his slender, defined body and a dark eye that demanded and pleaded in the same look. Ed had made his own, slow, painstaking map of his lover’s places, what got the best moans, what got the best pleas, what got the snarls of lusty outrage. He studied them, tried variations, worked Roy’s body as he would work an array, striving for perfection and heat and sweat.

Roy’s open mouth, throaty sobs, complete with arched neck, is what Ed liked best. He would attack the exposed throat with his lips and tongue, hand never slowing in its conquering. Roy began a rhythmic thrusting upwards. This told Ed his time was nearing and so Ed gave in to him then, gave Roy all the things he liked as he pulled up to watch his lover’s face when he came, the agony that was ecstasy, the way his throat worked as he looked, for just a moment, like he might cry. Ed would kiss him then, all over his face and lips and even his eye patch, although Roy still mumbled half hearted protests to it, then down his throat and over his chest and nipples before pulling up to release Roy’s wrists and watch him pant, waiting for the dark eye to flutter back open.

***

Ed as a seducer was a sight that would almost make his heart stop at times. After he’d been brought to his first completion, opening his eye and looking up at his lover glowing faintly in the dim light of the bedside lamp was a treasured thing. The look in Ed’s eyes, the slight smile pulled at the corner of his lip, there was nothing in Roy’s world to compare.

To be wanted as Ed wanted, to be craved as Ed craved… with Ed, nothing was half way. Everything was his spirit and determination, and it made Roy feel weak. Sometimes he would cringe from it, but he always in the end gave into it, letting Ed have him as he always let Ed have him and not just in body.

Ed murmured to him loving endearments and retrieved he bottle from the bedside once more, this time lying it by Roy’s side with the abandoned chocolate sauce _(for which Roy was glad not to be smeared with. Ed’s claimings were always sleep-inducing affairs that left him too drained to want to rise and bathe afterwards. He was always a sticky, stale mess in the mornings, and he hated that)_. With his fingers thus oiled, he raised Roy’s legs and hooked his knees over his shoulders, sliding his fingers behind Roy’s raised and offered balls, down the cleft of his ass and pausing to circle the ring there once, twice, before introducing the first slow finger.

***

Ed had been Roy’s first. Never before had it occurred to Roy that he would be giving up control, it’s just not something he was accustomed to. He remembered the night Ed had made his desires clear. At first, Roy had considered it just a tease that Edward had played at for a time, but always let Roy top in the end. Finally though, one night, Edward had made his stand.

“I’m on top tonight,” the blonde had husked, “I want equal time, bastard,” he groaned. Roy had chuckled softly as he always did, returning his lips to that sassy mouth, his fingers already buried to prepare Edward for taking. But, he’d pushed away suddenly and with force, twisting himself free to sit on the side of the bed, flushed with masculine beauty, fixing Roy with a hard look. “I’m serious.”

Roy was stunned to silence momentarily. His brain halted in its lust-bound tracks and he could think of not one thing to say. He made a helpless gesture, reaching for Ed, thinking that if he could just get him to lay back down he’d make him forget, but Edward had grabbed his wrist and held it firm, mouth a determined line, eyes glinting.

Edward was serious. Roy tugged his wrist and Ed released him. Roy sat up on his hip and pushed back his sweaty bangs, groping for how to start this conversation, but Edward plunged ahead for him.

“I can make it good for you, I know how. You taught me, mostly,” he said, “ I want this, Roy. I want to be inside you, I want to be the one to watch your face as you cum and know that I did that to you with my body, not my hands and mouth. I want what I give you freely; I want you to give that to me too.”

How could he refuse? How could he explain? Never once, and he’d had a couple of male lovers before Ed, he never given up enough of himself to let another person _inside_ him. He was capable of it emotionally, obviously, but physically? Something inside him rebelled. It was a sign of weakness, but that wasn’t right, he didn’t think of Edward as weak and never had. It was a double standard that he had fooled himself into believing and now it was threatened by the only person that _could_ threaten it. He felt… trapped, betrayed, and maybe a bit afraid.

But he wasn’t in the habit of lying to Ed and he wouldn’t’ start now, so he shrugged and said simply, “I’ve never done it before, been on the bottom. I’m not sure I’d like it.”

Edward, as usual, was not easily swayed by mere words.

“I didn’t like it at first either, but you made me like it, now let me make you like it. I’ll be gentle, it will be good, I’ve done it bef…” he stopped himself then and they both stared at each other. There was a slip there, a reference to the ether that hung between them sometimes, that realm that Ed had visited and refused to invite Roy into.

There was uncomfortable silence now and each party shifted a bit on the bed. Roy felt a bit chilled as the sweat he’d accumulated earlier began to cool. His cock waned as well, sighing in disappointment, thinking that it had finally overcome this stumbling block with its beloved Edward, but seemed doomed to repeat it time and again, like a bad penny turning up unwanted. Edward hung his head, bangs obscuring his profile and half turned his back on the General. Roy wondered if it was because of the admission. He reached out and touched a smooth back and Ed looked at him then, over his shoulder, his scotch eyes sad and apologetic.

Did Ed actually think Roy would hold an affair while he was trapped wherever he was, against him? The look in his eyes said he must and Roy cursed mentally that Edward still hadn’t outgrown the thought that he deserved all his suffering, that it was always a bad thing he’d caused. Roy ran his hand under the blonde hair, gripped the back of Ed’s neck and began pressing to turn him around.

“Stop this, Ed,” he said softly, “that means nothing. All that means anything, is us here and together, do you understand?” he gave Ed a small shake, “Do you think I’d want you to be lonely? I told you about Hawkeye, remember?”

Ed nodded, letting himself be turned and drawn against Roy’s chest. Roy rubbed his back and kissed his blonde head and sighed, wondering if he’d ever be able to work up a formula to finally rust to a halt that Edward Elric guilt machine. After a few moments, Edward’s hands began to wander and trace over Roy’s abdomen, his thighs and finally his cock, stroking and dragging lightly with his short nails. Roy smiled and kneaded his shoulders, letting Edward explore and touch, because it felt good and his cock stirred hopefully, thinking maybe the evening wouldn’t be a total bust.

They were lying face to face, touching and kissing. Edward’s hands trailed around Roy’s hips and began kneading his ass and parting it, a fingertip touched Roy’s anus and he jumped and pulled back.

“Let me,” Edward husked, “I want you, I need you. Let me Roy, please.”

Roy swallowed. He wanted to please Edward, he really did, but he had to come up with a way to conquer this force inside him that blustered and groused and said he was the man in this relationship _(not that Edward was a woman, but he wasn’t a non-man either. He wasn’t really sure what category Edward was really, but Roy was the man. Definitely. No doubt about it.)_ and as such, he should claim chest-beating dominance. Before Roy could stop it, he flung out a challenge.

“If you can take me,” Roy heard himself say, “you can have me.”

Edward Elric had laughed then, in a very frightening way, and Roy made a sudden wild flail, trying to throw himself off the bed, but it was too late, it was far too late.

***

The second finger moved in easily and Roy panted through it. Ed stilled and waited, then moved with Roy’s unconscious signals. Ed kissed the inside of Roy’s knee where it rested over his automail shoulder and worked Roy in slow circles, stretching him.

For all the bluff and fluster, posturing and foul language, Ed was an extraordinarily gentle lover, especially with his skittish ‘stallion’. _(Roy had groaned and rolled his eyes over that one, Ed had snickered and they both said at the same time, ‘I’ve heard that one about a million times!’ then both had laughed about it some more)_ He always took an immense amount of care making sure Roy was ready. The third finger met resistance that was gently and quickly overcome, and Roy’s breathing began to deepen, preparing himself mentally and physically. It was good, it was always good with Ed. He told himself that over and over again, because it was true and he wanted Ed. He wondered how long it would take, how many times Ed would top, before this thing in his chest was banished once and for all.

Edward liked for Roy to lube him. Roy offered up his palm and Edward anointed it with oil, then thrust himself forward enough that Roy could fist his cock. Ed thrust a couple of times into the hot tunnel Roy made with his fingers before pulling back, resettling Roy’s legs and looking down between them, tugging his own cock for a moment before lining up and raising his eyes to meet Roy’s.

Edward always asked permission with his eyes and that always made Roy feel warm and tight in his chest. He licked his lips and smiled, and Edward smiled back and moved forward, pushing in very slowly. Roy closed his eye and relaxed, giving himself up as always.

***

Roy’s surrender was always stirring to him, because he knew despite the many times they had done this reversal of sorts, he still had some reservations. But Roy was always giving, always compassionate and always there for him. Sometimes, if he thought about it too much, it made it hard to breathe. There was heat and tightness and Edward trembled with it, his restraint was always just on edge, he always just wanted to bury himself the moment he gained entrance, but he couldn’t, it had to be good for Roy, and Roy needed slow.

He reached between Roy’s legs with his flesh hand, gripped him and began a slow stroke as he sank to the hilt. He waited there for a few moments, stroking, listening to Roy’s low moans and hitched breathing, waiting for that unspoken signal. When he received it, he began to move, slow and steady, long strokes that brought him almost all the way out, then sinking back in to the hilt.

This is the pace he would give Roy until he couldn’t stand it anymore. From his vantage point, he would watch the man he loved as he loved him. He would take in the sight of Roy Mustang, pliant and flushed, sobbing and panting, for he knew that no one else ever had this sight. It was his alone and he would keep it his alone, or die in the effort. Roy touched him in ways even his brother didn’t, because Roy was _his_ , because Roy had given himself up and let Edward drown him, because no one had ever touched him in body and mind like Roy. No one loved him in the way Roy loved him, no one would ever love him like Roy. Roy was the second center of his universe, to be protected and loved and horded like a precious gem, beyond even the red stone he spent half his life chasing.

His need was becoming pronounced and his own breathing more erratic. His hand stroked faster, so he allowed his hips to catch up. Roy grimaced once, but remained relaxed and began to pant himself; his fingers working furiously in the sheets to either side of his hips, his tongue skating out wet his lips. Edward groaned at the sight, his memory flashing a jumbled myriad of images at how that very tongue had brought him so much pleasure.

His pace increased yet again and he began voicing his lust with heavy groans and Roy’s name. He voiced his lust and his love in a set of stuttered words, throwing his head back as his automail hand gripped Roy’s leg, leaning back as if he could bury himself deeper. Roy’s cries joined his own frantic calls, begging. His voice caressed him, pushed him, pleaded with him and Edward opened his eyes wide, looking up at the ceiling as everything he was, all his love, rushed forward. His last thrusts were perhaps a bit more brutal than he intended, but it was so much and he had to get it out before his heart exploded. He slammed his eyes shut and bowed forward, pushing Roy’s knees toward the hollows of his shoulders as Roy half screamed. There were a few more hard jerks on both their parts, then stillness and nothing but the sound of harsh gasps and struggles for air.

***

Fear, love, lust, pain and pleasure; Edward always gave him everything he could ever desire. They looked at each other, Roy reaching up to wipe sweat from his eye and then reaching out to touch Ed on his nose. Ed was hanging against his legs and grinned when Roy’s finger lighted on the end of his nose, crossing his eyes momentarily, then shaking his head and pushing back. Roy groaned because it made Ed’s cock (flagging, but still buried deep) shift and he was sensitive now.

Ed made a soothing noise and slowly pulled free. Roy grunted, then relaxed and Ed moved over him, leaning down to kiss him softly. They did this for a few long afterglow moments until Edward pulled back again, reached up and stroked back sweaty, black bangs. He cupped Roy’s cheek and sighed, lowering himself to lie on his lover. Roy grunted again and shifted just a bit as he ran his hands down Ed’s sweaty back, resting them on his butt and Edward lowered his cheek to Roy’s shoulder.

Roy drew idle circles, heaving a few heavy sighs. Edward smiled and all but wallowed as Roy turned his head and snorted in his ear, tonguing it once.

“What are you sighing about?” Ed said finally. He always hated breaking the afterglow silence.

“Well, I was thinking that you are damn hot and I was being smug with myself because I taught you how to be damn hot,” Roy teased and Edward half laughed.

“I sometimes miss my shy and blushing teenager,” Roy continued, “who would look at me with his big eyes and always say rude things, but still flop adoringly on my bed with his legs spread and his arms stretched out to me,” Roy kneaded on Ed’s butt cheeks.

Edward groaned in natural embarrassment and flexed his butt to Roy’s attentions.

“Don’t bring that up, that’s embarrassing shit. What did I know, you were always the one who knew everything, I was a sucker,” Ed said, “So now I’m on equal footing and you want to use that old stuff to make me feel like a kid again.”

“Not true,” Roy said, a little strained beneath him, “I like to think about it at times like these because you were so much lighter then,” he quipped.

Edward snorted and suddenly raised his arms and legs off the bed, making Roy support his entire weight for a few seconds. He chortled vindictively as the man gasped and tried to roll him off, with no success.

“Are you calling me fat again?” the blonde asked, dangerous and low.

“No,” Roy said feebly beneath him, “unless husky is fat.”

Edward lifted his arms and legs again, this time he waited until Roy turned blue before he put them down.


	3. Chapter 3

"…this is for you, too," Alphonse stood in the foyer, unloading the pockets in his heavy winter coat, just having come from the train station. It was a surprise holiday visit and he was unloading travel souvenirs into his brother's mitten-bedecked hands.

Edward was grinning and practically bouncing in place, which for Roy was good to see. This winter had been particularly wet, cold and very bad on him from the beginning, hence the mittens in the house and the 'automail sock’ on his arm underneath his long sweater, both concessions Edward had made to Roy's pleas. They also had a permanent wintertime blanket nest on the couch with one of the more modern medical warming technologies to come along from Central: a heating pad.

  
But the best medicine for Edward, of course, was this surprise visit _(not a surprise to the General, who had sent the request to the Colonel to ask her to relinquish her favorite minion for the holidays)_ , just as Roy knew it would be. Edward had lamented softly about only getting to see Al for a day or two during the climax of their holiday celebrations and in doing so, had let the General know exactly what sort of gift to get for him.

The Professor was on holiday break from class as well and wouldn't be back in session until the second week of the new year, leaving the two brothers with each other's company for these special days, their first true celebration together since Edward's return a little more than a year ago.

The two of them ambushed him, Edward wrapping an arm around his waist, Alphonse grabbing his hand and pressing a small box into it, grinning up at him. Their joy was always infectious; Roy eyed the box and stroked Ed's back.

"I know what this is," the General said to Al's shining eyes, "it's cufflinks, because you made a comment that my onyx ones were cracked the last time I wore a good suit to take you to dinner."

  
"You have been practicing," Alphonse said, "I'm very pleased! See? It's not hard to read things if you only apply observation, something I'm exceedingly good at despite myself, it seems. I can see you have gotten Edward to wear his warmers that Granny made for him, even after he told me over the phone they itched and snagged in his ports. I can tell by the extra bulk under his sweater on his right arm."

Roy kissed Edward's head as Ed snorted and frowned at his little brother, but then reached up and flung his arm as far as he could around his younger brother’s shoulders. Alphonse squawked as he was drawn into Roy's chest as well.

"Enough already, this is the holidays dammit and we're gonna act like it. None of the shop talk, that ‘analyze Ed until he screams’ bullshit. No sly looks at each other when I say something perfectly innocent and you two want to twist it back on me either, this is just gonna be us. We're gonna eat and drink and do all the holiday stuff just like we're supposed to. We're gonna go out and listen to those stupid carolers in Central City Park just like you like," Ed patted Roy on the ass, "and we're gonna go shopping for Granny and Winry," Ed directed at Al, "just like I know you want to, and it will be great. It will just be us three guys and the holidays and damn, don't we deserve that?" Ed looked between them.

Roy and Al looked at each other. Both of them gave the same one-sided smile and raised the same eyebrow _(in Roy's case, the only eyebrow)_ and they both said, "Whatever you want, Ed" at the same time.

Edward Elric screamed.

  
***

The great mystery that was Roy's state-loaned car sat in the driveway with its hood up, chugging irregularly. The two geniuses of the house were contemplating it in grim silence, wrapped head to toe against the cold with their noses peering out of mufflers wound around their faces. The General stood back, arms folded, waiting for the verdict.

  
"Something is wrong with it," Ed said, voice fighting through the knitted barrier that protected his lips.

"It’s making funny noises," Al, the master observer and now master listener, supplied helpfully, "is it supposed to make funny noises?"

The two of them leaned further under the hood and began pointing things out to each other.

"What do you think that does?" the elder asked.

"Don't know," the younger said, "Oh, look at this thing, what is it?"

"Don't know," the elder said, "it's got a hose though, look it's attached to this thing, what the hell is do you think that's for?"

"Don't know," the younger pondered putting his chin to his hand, "but it's vibrating up and down. What do you think this thing over here does?"

Roy put his hands on his hips and rolled his eyes. They were likely to be at this all day, who would have thought that the infamous Elric brothers would be laid low by something as mundane as a car with a stuttering engine?

"I know," Ed said, "Let's drive it around and see how it acts."

"Okay," Al said and dutifully climbed into the passenger seat. Ed closed the hood, got behind the wheel and studied the gear shift for a moment. Roy folded his arms again and stamped his feet against the cold, contemplating going into the house and making some coffee. It occurred to him as the car started rolling backwards that he'd never seen either of them drive before.

***

Alchemy fixed the porch very easily. Roy found out that his neighbor directly across the street from his house was named Mrs. Finch and she did not appreciate the car on her porch or the young hooligans loitering in her yard.

The local police showed up in due time, lent Mrs. Finch a sympathetic ear, but seeing how the damage had been repaired, they saw no reason for hauling anyone off to the 'clink'. They did, however, helpfully tow the now crumpled and dead state-loaned car of the General's back across the street and into the driveway with their patrol car. The two hooligans stood at the curb and discussed the afternoon’s exciting events.

"I really thought that flat, skinny pedal was the brake," Ed said, "to me it makes more sense that the flat, broad pedal would be the gas, doesn't it to you?" he asked his brother.

"Well, I should have warned you. I've watched the General drive the car before, but I can see it was an honest mistake," Al said, "one I might have easily made myself if I hadn't watched the General's feet," Al nodded, "well now you know the 'R' on the gear means 'reverse' and not 'reeve', I'm not sure why you'd want to reeve a car anyway," Al contemplated.

"You reeve it up to make it go, of course," Ed said, then saw Roy looking at them, "what?" he questioned.

Roy sighed, shaking his head and gave his attentions to one of the officers approaching him.

"No real harm done," the officer said, "but next time, you might want to pick a more hospitable day to teach your sons to drive," then the officer took a step back from the man before him and gave a shaky smile, "we'll just be on our way."

"Hey dad," the leering, blonde-haired hooligan called from the curb, "does this mean we’re taking a cab into the city?" he chortled with glee.

"Don't let him bait you, Pirate," the other blonde-haired demon supplied, "you can barely tell your bangs are going gray."

***

  
The Colonel came to visit, staying with them. Now that the General had the nice guest room, it just seemed appropriate. She came to attend the holiday party at the office, but arrived a day early. Edward watched Alphonse slip into some kind of bliss-induced coma as they all sat around in the living room, discussing what to do for dinner when the General got home that night. Edward had wanted Roy to _(skip)_ take the day off, but in order for everyone to be released early for the party the next day, things had to be caught up. How responsible of him, Edward supposed that it was the difference all along between what was his Colonel and what was now his General.

The moment the Colonel had walked in the door, Alphonse had become the epitome of hospitality. He carried her luggage _(offered to unpack it and hang it all up for her, but she declined gently)_ , gave her a tour of the house, _(pointed apologetically at the messy pile of blankets on the couch and informed her they were a necessity for Edward and his joints. She said she completely understood and he looked relieved)_ and offered to play the phonograph for her _(when he still had a suppressed snarl whenever Edward had tried to touch it)_. The moment she sat down in the living room to chat and be comfortable, he’d rushed to bring her coffee and cookies, and offered her a lap blanket from the hall closet.

“Alphonse,” she chided gently, “please sit and talk with Edward and I, we so rarely have the time to be together anymore.”

Edward smiled and was then assaulted by his younger brother’s one last mad burst of _she’s here!_ energy as he was tucked in and wrapped up vigorously. Al even stuck his fingers up the right sleeve of Ed’s sweater to make sure he was wearing his ‘sock’. After that, he sat _(practically at attention)_ and watched the both of them intently.

It was adorable to Edward, the way Alphonse fawned on the woman. Riza was a beautiful lady; Edward took in her casual appearance, still so neat and efficient. She wore a high-collared, soft shirt with a soft looking sweater over it, her unbound hair lending a softness to her features that she didn’t encourage when she was in uniform. Slacks and low-heeled, short boots finished off her look; she seemed relaxed and happy to be there with them, at least to Edward. If even he could read that much, she really must have her guard down. He had to hand it to her, when she was on duty, she was really _on_ , but not everyone could be like that all the time, not even the formidable Riza Hawkeye. Edward was grateful it was in their presence she chose to be more approachable, he knew very few people were allowed to see it and so it made it all the more special.

She had been a frightening thing to a twelve year old boy, with her hard eyes and straight back. Women of his acquaintance usually looked at him in ways that made him squirm, because he wasn’t a little boy, dammit, no matter what their eyes said. Only his mother could touch his cheek like that, or pat his head, or say those soft, kind words. But because she wasn’t there to do it for him, it hurt when these other women thought they could. Second Lieutenant Hawkeye, however, was different. She was appraising, she looked at him as if to judge who he really was, she made him feel inadequate at times and ashamed at others. Edward was sure it wasn’t intentional, especially later when he did see her first, almost soft, looks in his direction, but they were never motherly. They were concern, yes, but they looked at a young man, a fellow soldier and offered strength instead of a want to relieve him of his burden.

Of course now that he was older, he knew what some of the looks were that she gave to Roy and he felt a bit guilty and ashamed of that, too. He could see why Roy would be attracted and could definitely see why Alphonse was, she was a desirable pillar of strength. Alphonse saw a kindred spirit to his orderly existence and Roy had eventually seen her unwavering support and loyalty when his blind spot, named Edward, had been taken from him. Roy had never really explained just what went wrong between he and Riza, but Ed wasn’t about to ask the woman herself. He felt guilty at the surge of gratitude that they weren’t together when he’d come stumbling back into their lives, needing Alphonse and Roy so much it was a physical necessity.

“Tell me about the academy,” she said, smiling and looking a bit proud. Edward, for a moment, felt like Alphonse. He felt like he’d tell her _anything_ , “I hear you’re something of a celebrity all over again.”

“He teaches Alchemy to thirteen year olds,” Alphonse leapt in, as if afraid Edward couldn’t answer the question properly himself, “and he was given an honorary Professorship,” Alphonse seemed to puff up proudly, too. Edward just kept his mouth shut, smiling. If Alphonse wanted to talk for him, then Alphonse certainly could.

“Professor Elric,” Riza said, sipping her coffee, “very impressive, Edward. Is it to your liking, then? The General seemed very pleased with himself when he hatched the plan, didn’t he Alphonse?”

Al nodded eagerly, leaning toward her when she spoke his name.

“He was certain he’d found the right venture for brother,” Al agreed.

“Wait a minute,” Ed said, “he discussed this with you two _before_ he discussed it with me?”

“Well of course,” Alphonse said, like how could he not, “he wanted our opinions. The way you overreact at times leaves much to be desired, “ he informed his older brother loftily.

“Overreact,” Edward squawked, “I think discussing with me my future career is not something that needs to be done by committee!”, Edward flared his nostrils and glared toward the hallway where the front door was located, as if willing a certain General to come strolling into it so he could open fire, “I am no longer twelve, a fact quite a few people around here,” and he eyed Alphonse, “seem to have forgotten.”

Riza’s smile widened a tad more, her brown eyes softened a touch and Edward thought Alphonse was going to float away.

“This is all true. I assure you Edward, I no longer think of you as a twelve year old, but the General has high regards for your feelings and I would think rather he was asking us if we thought the offer beneath you, as not to offend you,” she said smoothly, instantly defusing Edward’s ire and making him feel a bit like he was an overreacting twelve year old. Damn, the woman was _good_.

“You’re always bad about jumping to conclusions, Brother,” Alphonse said, “I’m sure the Colonel knows it better than most, but why he wants you to attend an academy I’m not sure. It seems funny, what if we get a lead while you’re there?”

Edward went rigid and Riza lowered her coffee mug. They both looked over at Alphonse, who blinked at them in mild confusion. Ed swallowed and was glad he had his hands buried under a blanket so their shaking wouldn’t be seen. He glanced at Riza who was studying Alphonse thoughtfully, Alphonse noticed her gaze and squirmed uncomfortably.

“I’ll get you some more coffee,” Alphonse said to escape, jumping to his feet, “and some for you as well, Brother. You’re shaking, you must be cold, I wish the General had a fireplace in here,” and he took Riza’s cup when she offered it to him and fled before their gazes, down the hall to the kitchen.

“What have you told him?” Riza asked quietly as Alphonse’s footsteps retreated. Edward tore his gaze from the empty archway and to her face. She looked concerned, thoughtful and sympathetic; Edward was almost taken aback by this simple offering of her eyes and face, and shook his head.

“I haven’t told him anything,” Edward whispered, “he has asked, but I haven’t told him anything.”

Riza leaned back a moment and slowly rubbed her fingers up and down the curve of the arms of her chair where they dipped down to run toward the floor.

“I’m not sure that’s the wisest course of action, Edward,” she said gently, “I think in the long run, if his questions aren’t answered, he may force on himself conclusions that we know aren’t true.”

It was agony, plain and simple. How could he say to her, how could he make any of them understand _he didn’t want Alphonse to remember!_ Because that was better, wasn’t it, if Al didn’t remember? Why should Ed want him to remember it? The _terrorbloodpaindespair_ , the voices, the figures, the eyes probing and staring straight through to your very soul, the grasping fingers, so beautiful and so terrible, the whispers promising so many things and buzzing so loud you wanted to claw at your ears. Why should he want Alphonse to remember _that_?

All the years trapped in unfeeling oblivion, all the people around them hurting and bleeding and dying, why should any elder brother wish that on the younger? If Alphonse didn’t remember, he could go on from here, have a _normal_ life, something Ed denied him the first time he lived it. He could be free of the nightmares, the memories, the regrets. He wasn’t quite the same, this was true, but his soul was there, Edward could see it, he could feel it when his brother hugged him or touched his hand and he could hear it when his brother said his name. It was just better, it was good like this, Alphonse was clean and free and saved and Edward could carry it for them both, because it was Edward who had brought them both so low and fought so hard to raise them back up. So maybe it was the first _good_ thing the Gate had done, intentional or not. Edward saw not reason to waste it.

“I think it’s too much,” Edward heard himself say, “he’s lived those years again and it might be too much,” he whispered.

“Edward, I think we need to discuss this further,” but she stopped abruptly and Edward could hear the click of heels that told him why she did. He raised his head and smiled when his brother offered him a mug. His look of confusion gone, he sat back down and paid attention to whatever polite conversation could be wrung from either of them for the rest of the afternoon.

***

He had a very big mouth, and he remembered he had a bit too much to drink. He only petted the damn dog once, hadn’t he?

Roy looked over at the box on the passenger side of the car, heard the faint scrabbling within and sighed. This was his own fault for lapping up support like honey when he first became a General, a very young General, who no longer had dreams of grandeur or ambition, but who wanted to sit in power for selfish reasons. General Culpepper was a strong woman, matronly in a way, and she’d taken a shine to the infamous Roy Mustang. For a while he was her invite favorite to every little soiree she threw, but he had gradually been weaned away when fresh meat rose in the ranks and wasn’t all that sorry her attentions had turned elsewhere. But she never forgot him at the holidays _(damn the woman)_. This year she’d rung his office, told Havoc she had ‘something special’ for the General and that he was not to let him leave until she got there.

He pulled into the driveway, put the car in park, shut off the ignition and looked at the box again, sighing. He got out, walked around the car and opened the passenger side door. He carefully lifted it out and shut the door, looking down at the box’s small occupant scrabbling in a blanket and tilting its small head up to look at him.

“If we are lucky,” he told it, “he will be so overcome by your charm that we’ll both survive the introduction, but don’t get your hopes up,” he started up the walk to the front door, “it’s just our luck Hawkeye is here, though. She speaks your language and might be able to hold Ed back while we make a break for it,” he unlocked the door and walked in.

“Hey!” he heard Ed call from the living room. He sat the box down for a moment on the foyer bench to shed his gloves and stuff them in the pockets of his great coat before similarly removing it and hanging it on the mirrored hook.

“Hey,” he returned, picking up the box and steeling himself before walking into the living room, “you all look cozy, had a good day I hope? General Culpepper sends her greetings,” he patted the side of the box.

“One can only imagine,” Hawkeye said, a glint her eyes and a slight smile on the side of her mouth, “what is it this year? Not more of her homemade liquor, I’d hope. You were so sick last time,” she sipped her coffee.

Roy put his hand on his hip, balanced the box against his chest with his remaining hand and sniffed.

“It wasn’t the liquor, my dear woman,” he said, “it was the buffet. If you’ll recall, I heard I wasn’t the only one a bit under the weather the next day.”

“Well, Brigadier General Cothwell drank all his liquor that evening too, if I recall,” she said, one eyebrow raised in challenge and Roy grimaced.

Edward looked between the two of them, his mind running from curiosity to mild jealousy, then to being ashamed of himself for feeling jealous. He should be glad they were still friends, affairs could be very messy things as he well knew.

“What is it?” Alphonse asked. He was always the eager one when it came to presents, his or anyone else’s. Roy smiled, walked over to the couch, sat down near Ed and put the box between them. Ed leaned over to inspect it, eyes widening and nose wrinkling as he drew back.

“She gave you a rat?!” he exclaimed, “What kind of lunatic gives out rats as presents?”

This of course made Alphonse jump to his feet and come hurrying over to peer in the box as well. He blinked then grinned and reached in to lift the present.

“Don’t be silly, brother. It’s not a rat, it’s a puppy,” Alphonse was all smiles as the small, black and white terrier wagged its small tail and extended its pink tongue for a friendly lick toward a nose it couldn’t quite reach.

“Just as bad,” Ed sneered, “why in the world would she give you a dog?” Ed turned accusing eyes on Roy, “and what are you going to do with it?”

“Well, I expect I’m going to make a pet of it,” Roy said and shrugged, “I could hardly turn it down, it was a gift. That’s bad press, you know,” he went on smoothly, “besides, it’s a small dog, it shouldn’t be much bother.”

Alphonse was, of course, already besotted. He cradled the puppy to his chest and took him to Hawkeye, the resident dog expert, for a proper inspection.

“It will be fun, brother. Dogs are nice company, not as good as cats, but lovely all the same. The Colonel can tell you what a good companion Black Hayate is if you need convincing,” he leaned forward in offering as Hawkeye reached up to rub small, black ears.

“This must be one of Moppet’s puppies,” Hawkeye said and sat her cup down to free her hands. Alphonse happily deposited the small, wiggling puppy into them, “General Culpepper has fine spotted terriers, but Moppet is her only black and white,” she held the little creature in her lap and let it play chew a finger.

“Trust you to know a person’s dogs better than the person,” the General grinned, “unless they collect antique revolvers as well, then you would have found your true soul mate,” he teased. Alphonse began to make rapid mental notes and a conviction to read everything he could lay his hands on about antique firearms.

“Either diversion more worthy than collecting phone numbers,” the Colonel returned smoothly, never breaking the sight smile or the gentle rub of a small black and white canine head, “at least in the end I have a companion or an investment,” she then turned her eyes to Edward, “but I see that somehow, despite all that, you did come out with the better end of the deal, although the same might not be said for Edward.”

Edward had the grace to blush and smile, and Roy bumped shoulder with him affectionately while Alphonse continued to stand in attendance at Hawkeye’s chair. She held the puppy back up to him and he took it, carefully nesting it against his chest, where it grinned and wagged and showed its prize asset, its tongue, taking in its domain from the higher vantage point.

“What are you going to name it?” Alphonse asked, retreating to his chair of earlier and settling down, letting the puppy snuffle hopefully in the folds of his shirt.

“How should I know? It’s Roy’s dog,” Edward said, “I suppose he’ll name it.”

They were prophetic words.

***

After a morning spent erecting an elaborate barrier that ‘Roy’s Dog’ could not escape, _(and finally resorting to alchemy to do it, the little nuisance was an escape artist!)_ , the four of them headed into the city for a brief shopping excursion to satisfy family gift obligations before heading to headquarters for the party.

Edward was less than thrilled, bundled head to toe; he kept getting lost and having to be found. Roy proved to be excellent help in choosing gifts for young ladies, _(even better than Hawkeye, if it could be believed)_. Edward found he could feel jealous over that with no reservations and let everyone know it. It took a two pound box of chocolates and three tins of cocoa to placate him. Alphonse got exasperated and told him that it was wrong to use the General’s past against him to extort presents for himself, then the brothers heatedly argued all the way through the plaza into the next shop, where Hawkeye stood guard over them, ushering them out of people’s way while Roy procured dog accessories, grumbling himself about the prices.

They decided to forgo lunch. Well, at least three of them did. The fourth and shortest member of the quartet complained bitterly about being made to fast, despite the other three constantly reminding him there would be plenty of food at the party. A street vendor pretzel shut him up for as long as it took him to eat it and he then informed Alphonse that he had all the fashion taste of a near-sighted, dandy-fused chimera when he picked out a sweater he thought would be a nice gift for First Lieutenant Pharr. The two brothers got into it again and at the first opportunity, the General and the Colonel ditched them and went on ahead to the party, figuring they were old enough by now to find headquarters on their own.

By the time they figured out they’d been ditched, caught a cab _(arguing the whole way about who’s fault it was that they got ditched)_ and arrived at headquarters, the party was just getting started. The General was already prepared for a major snubbing, _(which he got)_ and Alphonse’s looks of hurt feelings _(which were easily soothed by a cup of warm punch, a pat on the back and a whisper about what a brave soul he was to stay and take care of Edward)_. Soon, more people began to arrive and they all started to have a very good time.

***

It became apparent that the warm, apple and cinnamon punch was spiked when Edward began to giggle, looking rosy in his nose and cheeks. The General demanded to know who made the punch, how they did it so the alcohol wasn’t evident and could he get the recipe? The wine had already been flowing freely at that point and Breda was everyone’s hero when he showed up with a dolly loaded down with a few cases of beer he’d liberated from his uncle’s warehouse. Beer, of course, was a manly drink and the wine was freely abandoned for it. Alphonse was torn between what he liked to drink, _(sweet wine)_ , and what he should, as a man, be drinking. He ended up putting down his glass and accepting the lukewarm can from Havoc, grinning when Havoc, Breda, the General and other equally masculine men in the room did, and held his breath as he drank it, trying to cast a look in Colonel Hawkeye’s direction to see if she witnessed his feat of manly fortitude.

Edward was at the point where he’d drink anything given to him. He was also standing guard over the buffet, leering menacingly at anyone who came near the serving dish of meatballs he’d staked out as his own. After all, he’d been forced to go without lunch and these meatballs, by gosh, were his by right. He was this man’s army from the age of twelve, and pointed that out to any unwary buffet browser with fork poised over his meatball horde that he was the FullMetal Alchemist, in case they forgot, and that they should all just be grateful. Nevermind if he didn’t do anything for them _personally_ , they should just be grateful anyway because he was warning them before they touched his meatballs. If he didn’t warn them beforehand and they touched them, well he’d just have to kick their asses.

The General was dispatched to deal with the blonde meatball terrorist who resisted mightily, grabbing the serving dish as he was dragged from the buffet table. They just let him have it to shut him up, but then Alphonse was sent to whisper discreetly to the General that trying to feel his brother up while he was shoveling meatballs in his face in public was probably not the image he wanted to portray, even if they would forgive him because he was drunk; someone might be lurking around with a camera.

It was Havoc’s bright idea to go find the stairway to the roof. He was urged to take the General along because no one was going to be able to take the serving dish away from Ed until he’d licked it clean. The General decided this might be a good rite of passage for Alphonse too, so the tipsy teenager was dragged along as Havoc, Breda, the General and a few other people he didn’t know too well _(because he couldn’t focus properly and only knew the others by their voices, no matter how slurred.)_ ascended the stairs, only tripping a few times.

Havoc won the pissing contest, but only after they all had to troop downstairs and outside to check. It was determined his prize for winning was to have another beer, so they all headed back up to the party where they found Edward snarling over a tray of miniature éclairs, holed up with them in the corner between the bookshelf and the window behind Roy’s desk. The General announced he’d rather face down a woman who’d just been told her dress made her ass look fat, than go near the frothing, blonde, drunk, sugar-buzzed, disaster waiting to happen, and his followers all nodded in agreement, giving him ‘buck-up’ sympathy pats on the back. Havoc even ventured so far as to say he was glad he didn’t have to sleep with that, whatever it was, snarling over pastries.

Hawkeye was wise enough to know that her authority only went as far as making sure people didn’t leap out windows to see if they could fly during this kind of debauchery, but seemed to be enjoying it all the same. She noticed Alphonse making an unsteady orbit around her, trying so hard not to be obvious, but sticking out like a sore thumb none the less. He was alternating between looking at her, looking at where he was going, and pushing people out of his way. The tighter his circle got, the more nervous he began to look, until right on the cusp of the circle that would have brought him closest to her, he veered off sharply and made his weaving way back to the group of men making bets on how many éclairs Ed could get into his mouth at one time. She watched Havoc slap Al’s back a few times while force feeding him another beer, then sort of turned him in her direction, giving him a small shove to his shoulder. Al stood listing to his port, looking like he might cry and laugh at the same time, but he didn’t move much further. Riza decided, since she was feeling warm, that this should be her last glass of punch, because wasn’t it going to be fun getting all these wasted idiots home?

The General decided that Havoc was a good place to lean, so he did so. His head bumped up under Havoc’s chin and Havoc, beer can grafted to his hand, half glazed smile in place, patted his superior officer on the back and sighed. Ed shrieked like a banshee, leapt to his feet and came out swinging. Everyone scattered and Havoc, used to defending his superior officer, took off with him in tow as Ed chased them from the room and down the hall. In the hall, his automail leg decided to take a nap and he ended up face down for a while. Havoc came back, dragging the General, and poked Ed with a toe. He only received a grunt in response, so he dragged the General back into the party.

When they got back into the party, Fuery had magically appeared. He wasn’t drunk yet, so this was a cause for celebration along with more beer, only the beer was getting low. Alphonse had not moved from the spot where he was swaying like a loose screen door in the breeze and it was decided he’d had enough beer and could now drink the wine, but really he should stop, because he was shit-faced, teehee. Then Ed showed back up, all askew and huffing, and the General demanded to know who was giving Ed beer. When it was pointed out that he was the one giving the beer, it was okay. If he was the one giving Ed beer, then it must be alright for Ed to have beer and then everyone could give Ed beer. Ed seemed pretty indifferent, but drank the two and half beers that came his way anyway.

The General patted Fuery on the head and told him what a good soldier he was. Fuery of course blushed in gratitude, drunken General notwithstanding, preening when the General proceeded to inform every living being in earshot just how wonderful it was having someone like him around. He was _polite_ , he was _punctual_ , he could fix just about anything _without alchemy_ , he was _smart_ and he was _respectful_. The General threw an arm around the blushing young man’s shoulders and Havoc backed away suddenly, pointing one shaky finger in the direction of a smoldering, blonde, alchemic reaction waiting to be unleashed. The General, oblivious, waved at Ed because Havoc was pointing at him. Ed came screeching over _(only tripped and fell once)_ and grabbed Roy’s arm around Fuery’s shoulders, intent on using it to pull Fuery’s head off. It was far too dull for such a thing, so Ed decided to strangle Fuery with it, screeching that he was “The Gennrals proggy firs!” which no one could understand.

Al woke up around this point and yelled “No, she wuz always mah friend first!” and leapt on his brother, inadvertently saving Fuery’s life and the General from an extended prison stay where he would have wound up as someone’s girlfriend. Havoc began yelling out odds as the two Elrics rolled around on the ground and money started getting passed while cheering sections broke out. Then someone yelled that they should have a camera and Ed started bawling about how much he loved his little brother. The fight degenerated into Al trying to claw his way to air and freedom.

Hawkeye took pity for her favorite subordinate and went over to pinch Ed’s nostrils shut, slapping a hand over his mouth until he realized he had to breathe. That, however, meant releasing Al, who he loved most in the whole world. He decided to die for love because that was noble. Hawkeye, in exasperation, just pinched the hell out of Ed’s nipple through his sweater. He screeched like he was dying, grabbing his chest as he rolled the other way, releasing Al. Being suffocated for love was one thing, getting a ‘titty twister’ was another entirely.

Hawkeye then helped Alphonse to his feet and got distracted when Edward grabbed her by the ankle, swearing vengeance _(and asking her to make that pasta dish she always used to make that he liked)_. When she looked back to Alphonse, whom she was supporting, he kissed her.

She knew he harbored a crush and a very strong one; she sometimes despaired of having to deal with it. She didn’t want to hurt him, he’d suffered enough in his life.

It wasn’t even that good a kiss. It was sloppy and drunken and delivered mostly to the side of her mouth. He smelled like beer and tasted like one, too and it was over almost as soon as it began. Edward had gone quiet, but hadn’t released her ankle and Alphonse was staring not into her eyes, but at her lips, like he might be working himself up to another attempt. The sudden chorus of whoops and catcalls did nothing for the situation in the least, Hawkeye was just grateful that they were all as drunk as they were and not likely to remember it in the morning, particularly Alphonse, most of all Alphonse. At least, that was her sincerest hope.

She pushed him away gently and leaned down to slap Edward a couple of times in the head, knowing he wouldn’t be hurt. He released her and shrieked anyway, grabbing his head. For whatever reason, this time his shriek brought a staggering General to his rescue, who couldn’t seem to kneel down or help Ed up, but stood there over him cooing.

Late and bewildered, Falman finally made an appearance and Riza was pleased to see him, as he was not drunk and could help her get those who were drunk out and into the car. She’d had enough; it was time to take the terrible trio home. The General could still pretty much walk- a miracle unto itself. He only needed to be supported and was easily put into the front seat of the car. Alphonse couldn’t really walk, but Falman, for all his narrow frame, was still a big man and got him into the back seat with no problem. The real problem had latched onto the doorframe with a metal hand, proclaiming he wasn’t going ‘any fucking where’ while there was still food on the buffet table, because that meant the party wasn’t over.

Fortunately, he was ticklish and Hawkeye was exasperated, a bad combination. He was dragged to the car by his flesh leg and tossed in head first onto his hapless brother who immediately told him there was a line drawn down the middle of the back seat that he wasn’t allowed to cross. The General, however, was being a very good boy because he had fallen asleep with his head against the front passenger side window and was drooling. Half way back to the General’s house, Ed edged the fingers of his flesh hand over the ‘line’. At first, Alphonse didn’t notice. He was too busy admiring the back of Hawkeye’s head, thinking it was the loveliest, most well rounded, proportionate head he’d ever seen, that he’d kissed her and that he was dead from massive internal hemorrhaging because he was sure she was packing the snub nosed 35 caliber in her boot under her lovely wool slacks.

When he did notice, he immediately wailed in stricken sibling betrayal and proceeded to try to slap fight Ed into submission. It caused Hawkeye to utter words she’d never thought would leave her lips… ever.

“Don’t make me stop this car and come back there,” she said, then felt her own jaw slacken just slightly, because really, she shouldn’t be playing their game at all. Alphonse then tried to be good, but Edward was feeling surly. He leaned up and reached over the seat, grabbing Roy’s collar and slapping the General back and forth on his seat, repeating “Roy” over and over again. Hawkeye gripped the steering wheel tighter and kept her eyes straight ahead, figuring if Roy made this bed he could sleep in it. Besides, she was fairly sure the car seat couldn’t give him a concussion.

 

**

 

One by one, they were negotiated into the house. Roy was first and was dumped onto the couch, because amazingly, he could walk in his drunken stupor sleep. Alphonse, who kept giving her the most love struck of looks despite the fact he seemed to have lost all control of the muscles in the rest of his body, was dumped there next. It took a good ten minutes just to get Ed out of the car. He then decided the lawn was a good place for a nap and no amount of kicking would make him budge. He was once again dragged by his flesh leg up to the porch. Hawkeye just decided the hell with it and dragged him up the lip of the porch and over the door jamb, ignoring the way his head bounced up and down when she did it. It was, after all, only his head. He was easier to drag on the hardwood and she dragged him into the living room as well, but left him lying on his back on the floor, spread eagle.

High pitched whines of someone truly in need summoned her and she left them there to stew in their own pickled juices for a bit while she cleaned up after a puppy, giving him a bit of attention to quiet him. She much preferred his company to that of her other male companions, but knew eventually they would have to be dealt with. Returning to the living room, she stood in the doorway and sighed, hands on her hips. Figuring that once again the General was going to be the easiest to move, she glanced down at Ed who was, amazingly enough, awake, but very unfocused. He kept furrowing his brow like he was trying to puzzle out who she was. Edward was a _true_ delight inebriated, no really, he was. She shook her head, frowning at him, and he had the decency to at least look confused and maybe a bit contrite.

She went over and shook Roy, rousing him into his walking catatonic state, got his arm over her shoulders and grunted, turning him to the doorway.

“Come on General, let’s get you to the bedroom,” she muttered, taking a step and encouraging him to follow, which he did. Hawkeye was convinced he wasn’t conscious enough to really realize it; the man’s automatic reflexes were amazing. From the floor, Ed made a sudden noise like an exclamation and rolled over, trying to get up on his feet a few times as Hawkeye pulled the General out into the hall. She heard scrabbling and dragging noises, glanced over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow as Edward determinedly followed them on all fours, except his automail leg had decided to be a total traitor and wasn’t cooperating well. In actuality, he was following on all threes and dragging the fourth, but a couple of times his automail arm also decided it had its own agenda and wandered in another direction. Edward ended up slapping his face on hardwood a few times, making Hawkeye almost wince in sympathy each time he did it… _almost_.

  
She got the General into his bedroom, managed to turn him around and back him up to the bed, letting him fall onto it, his knees hanging over the side. He immediately closed his eyes again and she knew he was gone. She shook her head, wondering why it was always she that looked out for him, even though she thought she’d left it all behind her with her transfer to East City. She bent down and lifted one foot, working his shoe off, and then the other. She heard a distressed noise behind her, _(the dragging and thumping had stopped right outside the door)_ and looked back to see Edward, who was managing to get himself to his feet by going hand over hand up the door jamb. He stood there staring at her, trying to speak, but only coming out with garbled sounds and slurred whines. Finally, he lurched the few feet from the door to the bed and half way collapsed on it face down beside the General. She sighed and began unbuttoning Roy’s shirt, but Edward leveled himself, made another high whine, then gently and unsteadily reached out with his automail hand, put it on her shoulder and gave her a slight _push_. She blinked at him, wondering what he was on about, but he did it again and then began trying to climb up onto the bed. He kept lifting his knee, hesitating and putting it back down. He did it several times and his whines were becoming frustrated and slightly panicked. Hawkeye finally took pity on him, got behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, grunting as she heaved him up onto the bed. With all four extremities on the bed, Ed calmed a bit, but then threw himself sideways and collapsed right on top of Roy. Roy snorted, grunted and licked his lips, but didn’t so much as make a move. He must be used to it, Hawkeye figured. She stood there long enough to realize Edward was somewhat jealous of her attentions to the General, as he was now trying to throw his leg over Roy as well.

There was nothing else for it. Edward was making it impossible to get either of them undressed, so she shook her head, retreated, turned out the light and just left them there. At least they weren’t sleeping on the floor.

***

Alphonse had tipped over on the couch. He appeared to be asleep, his ponytail lying over his jaw with the end of it draped over his nose, where his inhales and exhales made it sway gently. A simple touched on his shoulder had his bronze eyes open. He turned his head slightly, saw her and smiled. The boy had a lovely smile, it softened his features in ways she ignored in the office; he tried to sit up on his own, but she caught his shoulders and helped him.

“Can you walk, Alphonse?” she asked, “Let’s get you in bed.”

He contemplated her for a long moment, then put his hands down on the couch and tried to shove to his feet. On his second attempt, she caught his shoulders again and helped him, quickly ducking under one of his arms and drawing it over her shoulder to steady him. His head hung forward, but his face was turned toward her, studying her with unsteady focus; the smile hadn’t left. He was surprising manageable, if a bit boneless, and she was able to get him to his bed without incident, letting him flop back on it the same way she had the General. She bent down to remove his shoes as well, since the two louts in the other bedroom should have known better, she contented herself with doing for Alphonse what she couldn’t do for them. He tried to cooperate, but was a bit of a hindrance until she tapped his nose and told him to be still enough times that he finally understood, laying quietly and watching her.

It was almost uncomfortable to be under his scrutiny as she stripped him down to his boxers and undershirt, leaving his clothes piled by the bed on the floor in much the same way their wearer was lying on his bed- shapeless and relaxed. She lifted his legs up onto the bed and used his own struggles to move him so his head was at the pillows; she was able to yank the covers from beneath him to cover him up. He was going to be so sorry in the morning, she already felt pangs of sympathy for him, _(maybe she shouldn’t have let him drink so much? But she also knew trying to curb him in front of his brother and the others he considered peers, would have been embarrassing)_ he was, after all, only seventeen and despite himself at times, still mostly a child.

When he’d returned to Central at the age of twelve, she restrained herself mightily from telling the then Major General to send him home. How could she, in good conscious, deny him the right to find his brother? It was equivalent trade among the Elrics to sacrifice ones own need for the other, and had been since the moment she first laid eyes on them those years ago, when they were both young at the same time. She also considered him a balm on the wound his elder brother had left raw and open across the Major General’s heart, the way Roy would track the boy across the office with his eyes, wearing all too real emotions for brief seconds on his face before realizing what he was doing and shutting himself up again. He was many things to many people then, he was pain to the Major General, it was true, but he was also pride for the man and a sense of purpose. She knew as long as he had Alphonse to worry for, he wouldn’t let Edward’s ghost consume him in entirety.

He was inspiration to the others and also a bit of a sad reminder of what they lost when they gained Alphonse. He endured many head rubbings back then, as if he were some sort of lucky charm. The way he would trail Havoc around sometimes, all but hanging onto the man’s jacket tail, was touchingly poignant of his need for his elder sibling. But as he’d done before, and to her own secret kept joy, he began to turn to her more and more as time moved them all ahead. In a way she would never admit to herself, he was a reward for the things she had done right. He was a confidant, trusted and true. Even at thirteen, she knew anything she shared with him would be in the strictest confidence, even though it was only things about the job and perhaps Black Hayate and fleas. He was a vicarious joy, the way he would light up all over, get over excited or plead _(while trying not to sound like he was)_ for a file, a book or even a game of chess. It was her own jacket tail she began to fear for when she developed her much smaller Alphonse-shaped shadow after his return. His presence only intensified for her how much she’d missed it, the reach above her own, the comforting shadow that fell before her, the sharp mind that reaffirmed her own theories.

So her own secret elation was the return of this boy. It was only added to by the return of his brother and she knew she’d have been poorer in spirit if she’d never met the two. It must have been what drove her as Alphonse lay there, gazing at her with love written all over his features, the alcohol stripping from him the defense of his usual shield of cheerfulness. It must have been her own punch-induced relaxation that made her reach out and work the tie from his hair and thread her fingers through his bangs to push them off his forehead.

His sigh was euphoria laced and she blinked when he was actually coordinated enough to reach up and catch her hand. She felt some uneasy stirrings and perhaps a little heat in her cheeks when he pulled her knuckles to his lips and let them lie there against him.

“I really like you,” he confessed in a hoarse whisper, _(voice raw and scratchy from the screaming bout he’d had with his brother)_ , “I know you think I’m too young and the rules…” he sighed and trailed of for a few moments, “but I really like you” he told her with drunken earnestness again, kissing her knuckles in a sloppy and uneven way.

She should stop this right now. Drunk or not, he was her subordinate and many years her junior. It was inappropriate to let this charade continue, even if she was certain he would not remember it the next day. She should pull her hand from his grasp, inform the Lieutenant Colonel that while she appreciated his feelings, _(No, while she was touched by them. Yes, Alphonse could be easily wounded by a word falling out of formation from her lips and she knew that, that is why she was always very carefully correct in the office, the boy kept her on her toes)_ , he would admit to himself that the entire situation was indecorous and that what was said here should stay here, never setting foot off of Alphonse’s own pillowcase again.

But the punch was insidious and she heard herself say, “I like you too, Alphonse” in the most even manner, with not a hint of authority lurking around its edges at all. She was just indignant with herself, but she could not afford to release control of any situation. Alphonse wiggled all over and slobbered on her knuckles again. She should just stop him from doing it, it was wrong and it couldn’t be this way because of his age, her rank and their lives.

“I mean,” he continued blearily, “I _really_ like you,” his eyes adored her. She knew he was trying to will the true meaning to his words into her brain. Even as drunk as he was, he still _knew_ that if he said more than that, she would shut him down, pull her rank up like the armor it was and make him see the fruitlessness of what he said, letting it hang forever suspended between them. He knew it, the boy _knew_ her and thus he was also her own little tragedy, because yes, maybe in the dark places within her, she did hunger for that, she wanted that. But that would make him more to her than what he should be, what was appropriate and respectful.

He was under aged and her subordinate, and while the General had his own reasons, presumably good ones, she did not, nor would she ever.

Alphonse Elric would not be with the military for the rest of his days, and she would not be without it.

They had both worn armor, only he’d lost his and she never could.

She gently tugged her hand free, sincerely hoping she left her musings behind her there on the pillowcase with Alphonse as she turned to go out the door, because she would never admit them to herself in the light of day.

***

“Kill me,” Edward begged tragically, “please, I know you love me, kill me,” he got out before grabbing the toilet again and practically going face first into it.

The General leaned from his perch on the tub’s edge and caught the thick blonde hair as it started to slide forward, his own head beating out a rhythm he could dance to if he had truly wanted to. He thought instead, _(amazed he could think with all the cerebral racket)_ , that it might hurt less to throw himself bodily and repeatedly onto the dance floor. Edward was making the most noxious retching sounds Roy had ever heard and ever wanted to hear, because after watching Edward crawl frantically into the bathroom, knowing that his lover bound duty was to follow him, he almost wished he were single again, but only for half a second.

Hawkeye had checked in on them once during the last hour, giving them towels and looks that said they were the idiots she always expected them to be, but then by mercy’s own blessing, she had left. Roy heard frantic running in the hall and some retching noises only slightly less gruesome than Edward’s, and knew that Hawkeye had assigned herself to Alphonse duty. Edward was released from his own folly for a moment as he leaned his cheek against the side of the toilet bowl and turned grizzly, watering, pinky-gold eyes on Roy, pleading as much as he could with their oozing condition, for a quick and releasing death.

Roy tried to rub a comforting circle on Ed’s back, but it was more just a push into the toilet bowl. Roy wanted coffee and aspirin and escape at the moment, but he knew if he tried to leave, the consequences would be dire, indeed. Edward was a firm believer that his misery was a desperate and lonely creature, bent on suicide. It needed more company to wallow in so it would find the will to live long enough to make sure it tortured him beyond endurance.

“What the hell did you eat, Ed?” Roy grated out, squeezing his own eyes shut as tiny tears collected in the corner, fleeing the party his brain and its swing dance cohorts where throwing, “and how much did you eat? You’ve been at this for an hour already,” the General groused.

“I don’t know,” Edward half sobbed, “I think it was maybe the meatballs? They were tainted, I bet everyone is sick,” on cue, he lurched up and gurgled at the inside of the toilet bowl again.

Roy grabbed a handful of blonde hair but kept his eyes fixed firmly in the opposite direction.

***

She laid a cool towel across the back of his neck and he almost leaned down to kiss her shoes. She was his heaven, the hand that kept his hair from becoming doused, the half soothing shush noises as he took up the most undignified position in front of a toilet he’d even been in, and she flushed for him, because trying to lift his hand above his head now was just _agony_.

But he was also appalled, embarrassed and aghast that she could see him like this. What was he thinking? No, what was he _drinking_ last night? Why, oh why did he have this burning, itching, insane need to fit in every time the other males of his acquaintance did something stupid? He had nothing to prove, _(unless Edward was watching)_ , and he shouldn’t let his stupid addle-padded hormones run away with him. He deserved this! He did, and he deserved for her to see him in his lowest hour, on his knees in a bathroom, trying to turn himself inside out.

Because he was an idiot and her looks would remind him later not to be one.

***

After Edward said “I think that’s my stomach floating in there,” he had been left to fend for himself. After all, he was a big boy now, capable of throwing up all on his very own. He dragged himself to the kitchen _(he would call himself ‘half-blind’, but to do that now, he’d be ‘all blind’ and in fairness, he could still see… a little)_ and looked groggily at the outline of the figure at the stove with a coffee pot and something wiggling on one arm.

“I’ve taken the dog out,” it announced in clip tones, “and I’ve started your coffee. I have to check on Alphonse, sit down before you fall down,” Roy remembered she’d been just about this warm in bed, too. He fumbled to the kitchen table and sat; she came over and put the wiggling thing in _his_ arms and marched back down the hall to the bathroom. Roy had no motivation to get up on his own, so he sat there trying to engage latent telekinetic powers to will a coffee mug to the table, with coffee in it, but no cream. GAH no cream today! He wondered what the wet sensation on his chin was, then realized the black and white blob in his arms must be licking him. He hoped feebly that Hawkeye would come back with a hammer to crush his skull and stop the pounding; it really couldn’t be any worse that what it was, truth be told. He thought about setting the puppy down, _he finally realized that’s what the furry, wiggly blob must be_ , but he was sure if he bent over, he’d join it on the floor and might not want to get back up. It was hard drinking coffee lying on the kitchen floor, he knew because he’d tried it before.

***

Alphonse managed to make his moan both pitiful and grateful when Hawkeye laid the cool towel on the back of his neck. He reached out to finger her shin, but she moved away.

“I have to check on your brother,” she said with some resignation, “I’ll be back to get you back in bed afterwards, just make sure you think your sick spell is over,” Alphonse was comforted by the gentle command and nodded once before she left him there on his knees, praying in the age old fashion to the hangover gods for mercy.

Edward was sprawled on the bathroom floor and looked up at her, whimpering, when she looked in on him. His forehead sported a large bruise from where it had repeatedly made contact with the floor in an effort to drag his body behind it last night. He was pasty, sweaty and was still wearing his party clothes. She heaved a very large sigh, bent down and got her hands under his shoulders to sit him upright. She wiped off his face and neck with a wet wash cloth while he whimpered in short happy bursts, then managed to drag him back into the bedroom proper and onto the bed. She began unbuttoning his buttons and after she got them all open, he mumbled “I can get it from here, Colonel”. He tried to smile at her, but it was just an imitation badly made in a small, foreign country. She retrieved him some clean boxers and a clean t-shirt, laid them beside him, went out and closed the door behind her, but listened for a moment to make sure he didn’t slide off the bed, onto the floor. Once she was satisfied, she returned to Alphonse, did a similar clean up on him and got him to his room, offering him clean garments and also leaving him alone to dress. She went back to check on the General, deciding her holiday wasn’t being any kind of vacation at all.

***

Alphonse was sleeping, Roy was medicated and caffeinated, and Edward had somehow managed to get into the kitchen, surprising them both. He sat slouched against Roy, rumbling every time the puppy darted over to lick his flesh toes and sniff his metal ones. His nose was crammed into Roy’s shoulder, and Roy, not feeling very sympathetic, kept shifting and snorting, resulting in Edward _wiping_ his nose on Roy’s shoulder. Riza sat across from them with her own cup of coffee and some toast; the other two had looked at her like she was some kind of hideous dominatrix when she suggested they try to eat.

“We may not have this opportunity again for some time,” she suddenly said. Roy raised his eyebrow half mast and Edward rolled an eye in her direction.

“I would hope not,” the General said hoarsely, “because we’d all be dead, I’m sure,” Edward just vaguely nodded agreement.

“That’s not what I meant,” she continued, “I think we should discuss Alphonse and his memories,” she said quietly. Edward turned his face then, still leaning on Roy but not looking at her.

“Al’s memories?” Roy said, “What about them.”

Riza sipped her coffee, giving Ed a chance to speak up. When he didn’t, she spoke up for him.

“Al had an episode the day before yesterday, it came across like a regression,” she said evenly.

Roy seemed to stiffen, he turned his head to look at the top of Edward’s head, then back to meet Riza’s hazel gaze.

“Explain it to me, I haven’t heard anything about it,” he suddenly shoved slightly sideways, making Edward move back. He took the hint and sat up as much as he could, leaning his elbows on the table, still holding his silence.

“Since Edward seems too reluctant to discuss the matter, I’ll enlighten you,” Riza said, “we were all sitting in the living room discussing casual things, Edward’s job was the topic of discussion, and Alphonse made statements as to his confusion why _Colonel Mustang_ would want to send his brother to an academy when they should be out chasing down leads for the stone.”

Roy sat silently for a long moment, then turned slowly to look at Ed again.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Roy’s voice was concerned and plaintive, “this isn’t something to brush off, this is concrete evidence that Al’s memories of his years before are still in there, and are starting to surface.”

Ed’s stomach rolled, and not just from his earlier upset. He would just have to voice all his misgivings, they could just think whatever they wanted to. He’d done this very thing before, but always with strangers who he didn’t give a fuck what they thought about him. It was so much harder to say things in front of people he loved; he took a deep breath.

“I don’t want him to remember,” Edward said, “don’t you think it’s better if he doesn’t? What’s so good about those memories? What use could he possibly have for them now? Look at him, he’s perfect! Why can’t he just be who he is now without having all that clutter to confuse him from the past? He’s not hurting for the lack of it, if we just lay low and don’t talk about it, maybe they’ll never come back...”

  
 _Listen to yourself_ , Ed thought disgustedly, _you’ve bought into your own stupid delusion and they are going to pick you apart._

Riza was contemplating her mug and Roy heaved a heavy sigh, sliding his arm was over Ed’s shoulders. Edward was drawn against the side of his chest, and he closed his eyes as a nose gently ruffled the hair on top of his head.

“I wish it were that easy,” Roy muttered, “because I think maybe you might be right in a lot of ways, but we both know, simply because who we are and what we lived through, that it won’t be that way.”

“Why do you want to deny him himself?” Riza questioned gently, “Or memories of you when you were a boy, his constant companion, his elder brother? I know these are memories Alphonse would cherish. As I told you before, do we want him having confusing visions and being unable to decipher them himself, thinking he _can’t_ come to us because we won’t talk to him? I can only imagine some the conclusions he might draw from them. Think about this Edward, think about how much harm that might actually do.”

“I would never hurt him,” Edward said suddenly, a little more harshly than he intended.

Roy made that sound in his chest that Edward clung to in his darkest times as he tightened the arm around him. Edward let himself be comforted and pressed harder, trying to apologize to Hawkeye for his tone with his eyes. He was relieved that she didn’t look offended, only concerned for him and his brother. She was good to them; she was always so good to them.

“I will, of course, do what you think is best,” she said quietly, “but I want to make it clear my thoughts on the matter,” she kept her gaze right on Edward’s face, calm and reassuring, as she had done several times when a young boy had stood before her, trembling with guilt and indecision.

Edward furrowed his brow. He wanted to defer to her in an almost painful manner, but this was _Alphonse_ they were talking about, not some failed lead, not some dangerous mission. This was his only _brother_. His gaze shifted up to his lover’s profile. Roy’s jaw was set; he looked contemplative and deep in thought. Roy took some of the pain and guilt by just being there with his arm around Edward’s shoulders, and he wanted desperately for the miracle solution to come from the man’s lips that very moment. Instead, the dark eye moved down to Edward’s face and he was given a half smile, sad and lovely. Edward sighed and hid his face again; it was so hard to think like this, with the people who mattered most in his life watching him when the decision was so important.

Roy spoke then, his voice protective and Edward centered on it, feeling his balance being restored.

“I understand what Edward is saying,” he said, “and I sympathize. I also understand your position, Colonel and I think you are correct in ways too, but the matter is at the moment that we aren’t sure what we are dealing with,” the General sighed, “none of us are schooled in the ways of the mind, and nobody in the world is schooled in the ways of a mind that has lived three lifetimes.”

“Three?” Riza questioned before Edward could.

“Yes,” Roy said, “his past life and current life both had waking stages, but have you forgotten that Alphonse never slept? I can only imagine the sheer amount of thought and knowledge he accumulated while the rest of the world slept. To me, that would amount to another lifetime in itself, a speculative place that he is somehow tapping at the very moment to write his incredible theories.”

Edward made a small sound of surprise. Why hadn’t _he_ thought of that, Alphonse’s own brother? His hand moved to Roy’s side, his fingers dug into his shirt.

 _I am always blind and stupid in the really important matters. My stupid heart gets in the way when my head should be rationalizing things,_ Ed thought bitterly to himself, _I don’t know who to thank for making Roy love me, but thank you, I always need him and I always needed him._

“Very astute, General,” Hawkeye said with a slight hint of admiration, “a brilliant point. So, your opinion on how we should proceed?”

Edward stiffened all over and Roy yielded despite himself. He would have sided with Hawkeye, but because Edward was still fragile in so many ways _(no matter how strong he had gotten)_ , Roy would wait on Edward’s word. He was Edward’s creature; he had told him so years ago on the night that had shaped what they were today and he would support him, because Edward needed him. He would always long to carry some of Edward’s burden.

“I think we’ll bide our time,” Roy said simply, “nothing untoward has happened as of yet, but we’ll watch him very carefully. If things begin to change, we’ll make the time to have another opportunity like this and we will reach some concrete decisions on what is to be done,” he hoped his answer satisfied them both.

Edward relaxed and Riza lowered her eyes, accepting but still concerned, as she always was in the past, no matter how outlandish his requests.

For the faith they both placed in him, he was grateful and solicitous.

***

In the evening hours, like the undead rising from so many horror stories, the Mustang-Elric household came back to life. Everyone was grateful to eat homemade soup and complimented the Colonel outlandishly. Edward had since been bundled up against the cold and was holding court in his blankets on the couch. Alphonse was sitting on a pillow on the floor, letting a black and white puppy dart between him and Hawkeye, and the General was even feeling much more like himself, listening to the suggestions being offered to him.

“Patches,” Alphonse said eagerly, laughing when the puppy ran over to lick his fingers.

“No,” Roy said with mock indignation, “that sounds like a five year old named him,” he grinned in mischief when Alphonse snorted indignantly.

“Harlock,” Riza said, “after the Captain who single handedly fought off Drachman invaders in the Holder’s Pass,” she intoned loftily. She’d named a dog before, after all.

Roy snorted and let his grin wander over to smirk at her.

“No, I don’t think so. I know what you named your defenseless pooch who couldn’t speak up for himself, why should I let you torture ours,” Roy said.

“Yours,” Edward reminded him.

“There is nothing wrong with Black Hayate,” Riza informed him icily. She had her legs crossed and her foot jiggled just slightly. Roy chalked up a point for his side.

“General, that was really rude,” Alphonse leapt into the line of fire and defended his superior officer, “and what’s more, _you_ aren’t making any good suggestions, neither is brother.”

“It’s Roy’s dog,” Edward informed them all with a sniff of disdain. The puppy was making laps from human to human, only finding Alphonse readily in reach. Edward just gave it a disinterested eye when it stopped to gaze up at him.

“The poor beast is going to go nameless,” Riza told the General, “because you’re so picky, yet won’t do it yourself, as usual.”

Now Roy was a bit slack jawed. Alphonse giggled and nodded to Hawkeye, who sipped her coffee and put her elbow on the armrest of the large leather chair, leaning her cheek into her palm in a very subtle challenge.

“Give us a good name, Brother,” Al said from the pillow on the floor, “something with spirit that’s easy off the tongue.”

“I have no vested interest,” Edward said again, “it’s Roy’s dog, let him decide.”

“You are both sticks in the mud tonight,” Al groused, giving the puppy a butt scratch and watching him wiggle in canine glee.

“Fine,” the General said, “I think I’ll name him… Spot. Seems appropriate,” he said, slouching back into the couch. He had never named anything before and the task seemed daunting, that’s why he wanted to leave it up to the genius and the expert, but they weren’t coming up with anything either, and the man he slept with was practically useless.

“How is that any better than Patches?” Al said, askance, “In fact, it’s worse. Let’s not call him Spot and pretend you never mentioned it,” he looked again to Hawkeye for wise, dog christening counsel.

“Bris…” she got out of her mouth, but the General leapt upon it before she could finish.

“I’m not naming it Brisbane,” he said, “I don’t care what lofty accomplishment you think the Central Command Headquarters building is, it looks like a damn box!”

“It is defendable from all sides,” she countered, “its upper floors are vantage points for the whole city, he was an amazing fortress engineer,” she sat up straight again.

“It’s butt-ugly,” the General said, “so no, our dog won’t be called Brisbane.”

“Yours,” Ed said again. He looked absolutely apathetic until it was even hinted that the puppy was more than a passing annoyance in pertaining to him.

Roy looked at him, exasperated, flopping a foot up into Ed’s lap. Ed shoved at it and Roy snorted.

“What, don’t tell me you don’t want to rub Roy’s foot,” he said, “you know the dog will be living here with the both of _us_ ,” he emphasized, “it’s so unlike you to not have an opinion, I’m actually getting chills up my spine,” the General said.

“Roy’s foot can get the fuck off my lap, which is somewhere Roy’s dog will never be,” Edward countered.

“R.D.,” Alphonse said suddenly and very loudly. All eyes turned to him and Al smiled and shrugged, capturing the black and white focus of much heated debate and holding it aloft, “his name is R.D.,” Al said again.

“R.D.?” Riza asked, still sounding a little put out that Brisbane had been rejected.

“They’re just initials, it’s not a name,” Edward said, then snorted, because dammit, he’d voiced an opinion and he swore he wasn’t going to do that!

“I don’t know, initials can be very dignified,” the General said.

“R.D.,” Alphonse said one last time, “Roy’s dog.”

The other three sat impressed.

“I like it,” the General said.

***

The traditional exchanging of gifts left everyone richer in sweaters this year and it was all too soon for Alphonse to accompany his Colonel back East, plus the school year would soon be picking up. Edward stood by the cab, looking downcast as usual. Roy stood beside him with the newest member of the household wiggling in the crook of his arm.

“Keep him on schedule,” Riza advised, “he’ll need to go out often while he’s young, but soon you’ll train each other,” she said.

Roy saluted her jauntily and grinned.

“Call me when you get home,” Edward said to Alphonse, “I know it might be late the night you finally get in, but I’ll probably be up hammering out my next quarter syllabus. It will only be a day or two before I go back to class by the time you two get back to East City, so just call and let me know you’re okay?” he offered what he thought was a good smile, even though he really longed to pull his little brother out of the cab and keep him there. Damn military and their damn contracts! But then again, Al was with Riza, and Edward found those were safe and reassuring hand to put him into. He trusted Riza when she said she’d abide by his decision concerning Al’s memories and she’d never let him down before.

“Don’t worry, Ed,” Al said, reaching through the window and letting his elder brother catch his hand for a few moments, “I’ll be fine, I promise to call.” Edward nodded, then released Al’s hand and waved to Riza.

“Thanks for everything, Colonel,” he said, smiling that smile again that was supposed to be good, but actually told its recipients how sorry he was for them to go. He was wearing it so openly now and it was, in truth, a good smile, because everyone could see he cared.

The cab backed down the drive as Roy’s free hand found its way onto Edward’s shoulder. Edward let himself be drawn against his side first, then into the house.

***

R.D. left them a present in the hallway, which Roy found with his foot while mauling Edward on the way to bed that night. There was much disgusted snorting from both parties and the General hopped one-footed down to the bathroom to stick his loafer in the bathtub, grimacing as he used soggy toilet paper to clean it. Edward had grumbled, but scooped the menace up, taking it out back to see if it was in the mood for more giving. But no, it seemed that solitary token of love was all it wanted to leave. He brought it back in and went to imprison it in the little pen that had been erected for it for the night, and the General snorted, grumbling in the hallway.

“Why didn’t you clean this up while I was in the bathroom?” he complained, going to retrieve more toilet paper.

“I took the little beast out for you,” Edward informed him, “and put it in its pen, what more do you want?” the blonde questioned.

“I was cleaning my loafer,” the General said, one shoed, “where you just going to leave it here until I came out and picked it up?” he waved his arms.

“Tell me,” Edward said again, sly grin slicing across his jaw, “what is that dog’s name again?”

“Goddamn me and my ego,” the General grumbled, carrying the gift his dog had left for him back to the bathroom and the waiting toilet.


	4. Chapter 4

Two months after the holidays and Alphonse felt like he’d never really gotten off the train in East City. He had been less than three days back before being dispatched again and then another two days after getting back that time. It had made phone conversation scarce but letter writing while train riding flourish. Here he was again, on another train heading for another mission-- at least the Colonel had looked a bit sympathetic this time when she had Pharr handed over the orders.

“I know you must be getting tired of the constant traveling,” she said, “I promise to let you have a break soon.”

Alphonse gave her a half smile and then patted his hip.

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to, but my poor numb backside, the true hero of these journeys,” he’d grinned and she’s given that lovely slight smile and Pharr had snorted a half laugh and proffered the file.

“Come back in one piece, Lieutenant Colonel,” Pharr said, just like he always did.

***

The train shuddered and slowed and came to a halt by a water tower just shy of the depot house in Hayden, two stops north on the outbound tracks from East City. Alphonse looked out the window idly, having seen the sight many times before: Hayden was tiny with an equally tiny depot house and trees and dirt just like everywhere else. Movement on the platform caught his attention; a young boy, shorts-clad and barefoot, came bounding down the steps, hopped the tracks and ran for the engine; he fell out of sight then, so Alphonse let his gaze wander back to his book and tapped his thumb against it.

He wasn’t sure what had happened on the night of the party, but something had, because she was treating him different-- subtly, nothing overt or anything the untrained eye could tell, but he could, in ways. It wasn’t as if it were a bad thing, but she seem to be extra cautious about things, about controlling herself when she spoke words of praise to him; casual conversation was also politely restricted and it seemed she was building an extra invisible barrier behind the one she already defended like a lioness, and he just couldn’t figure it out. Plus it seemed to only apply to him, and it just made him more confused. He had questioned Edward at length about the incident, _(when he could get near a phone)_ , and his brother seemed to sincerely want to help…but his own recollections were muzzy and half formed and not even the Pirate provided any clues. He was a bit fearful he’d done something brash and unforgivable, but it wasn’t that… No, he would have known, and he just sighed and chalked it up to another one of those things that fell under the heading ‘female’, because as autonomous as she might like to be, there was no escaping for her in some areas, and being a mystery to men was one of them.

***

The door at the end of the passenger car suddenly slid open and the conductor came rushing in, followed by the boy Alphonse had seen earlier, and he peered down the length of the car, and the conductor said: “Is there a Lieutenant Colonel Alphonse Elric in this car?” And Alphonse blinked then laid his book aside and stood.

“That would me sir,” he said, wondering why the conductor would be looking for him, let alone know his name.

The conductor looked at him askance for a moment and Alphonse knew the look all too well-- his rank was sometimes more a curse than a blessing, because no ever quite believed _he_ was a Lieutenant Colonel, so he quickly fished his silver watch out of his trouser pocket and held it aloft, lifting his eyebrow. The conductor’s own eyes widened and he hurried down the isle holding an envelope before him like a shield that could magically clear the way, when he got to Alphonse’s seat he thrust the letter at the boy and half lifted him arm like he might salute but caught himself doing it.

“There’s an urgent telegram for you,” the conductor said, “Elwood ran all the way in from town to deliver it,” he gave a brief nod to the dirty boy behind him.

“Thank you very much,” Alphonse said to the boy, taking the envelope and fishing in his pocket for some cens-- surely he had some on him-- and then he flipped the letter over and saw the return as East City Military HQ…and yanked his hand back out of his pocket to open it immediately, earning a grunt from his delivery boy. Well he could wait just a minute.

The telegram was short and too the point, just like the Colonel herself when business was serious.

 _Lt. Colonel Elric,_

 _Urgent recall, you are to report back to East City HQ via quickest route possible._

 _Stop._

 _Report immediately to Colonel Hawkeye’s office on return._

 _Stop._

 _Lt. C. Pharr  
_

Alphonse immediately shoved the letter in his shirt pocket, grabbed up his book and jacket and reached up to pull his suitcase from the overhead rack.

“I need to get back to East City immediately,” he told the conductor, “when is the next train southbound due in?”

The conductor puffed his cheeks and said: “That would be our return run tomorrow, sometime in the late afternoon.”

Alphonse grimaced; not good enough! He began moving toward the conductor, causing the older man and the boy to retreat back up the isle before him.

“Where can I hire a car, then?” he asked. “This is very urgent military business.”

“There isn’t any place to get a car in Hayden,” the conductor said as he hurried before Alphonse, then pushed the boy through the side door and down the steps to the gravel and tracks outside, “but I know what you can do. Elwood, take the Lieutenant Colonel to see your dad, tell him to rent him a horse and he can ride back to Grayson; he can hire old man Pate to drive him into East City from there.”

The boy contemplated this, after all he had gotten nothing for his mad head-long dash to deliver the telegram in the first place, he narrowed his eyes at Alphonse, trying to figure out if he actually had any cens or not.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” Alphonse promptly promised, and then looked back to the conductor. “This Mr. Pate has a car?”

“He’s got a farm truck-- he delivers to the outskirts of East City about once a week, but for enough cens he’ll drive you just about anywhere.”

“Good enough,” Alphonse had jammed his hands back in his trouser pocket and produced a couple of loose paper cens, which he immediately offered to the boy. The boy lit up, leapt forward, and snatched them and then yelled: “Come on!” and took off like a barefooted bolt of lighting back down the road; Alphonse snatched up his suitcase and gave chase as fast as he could, he kept telling himself seventeen was not too old to be doing this.

***

The students finished up the chapter thirty minutes early. Edward knew they would degenerate into a mob of gossip whispering, paper-wad throwing, bad-for-his-teaching-image slackers if he let them. So he decided to hold open house on transmutation questions, _(to distract them and to keep their voices down)_ , because if he let them if he gave them five minutes of time without something to occupy them they would get too loud. If Dr. Thaxton came to complain he could hear them over his band practicing again, Ed might have to shove the man’s trombone in a place that would make it awkward for the man to stand, let alone sit down.

“OK,” he said loudly, and what chatter had started stopped abruptly and twenty-three pairs of eyes turned toward him. He shrugged off his jacket and laid it on his desk and leaned back on it, folding his arms. This was open invitation to riddle Professor Elric with questions and they all knew it.

Immediately about half of the forty-six hands in the room shot into the air and Edward lifted a finger and waved it about slowly, deciding who would get to ask first and be envied by the rest of the class. He should be ashamed of thinking of himself in popularity terms, he really should, but he decided to let it be his guilty little secret. Henry Duffy had his hand in the air and that was a bit of a surprise so the Professor graciously settled his waving digit in Henry’s direction, and said: “What’s on your mind…Duffy?” deferring to the boy by his nickname as all his friends did and was rewarded with a huge grin for the acknowledgement.

Then Edward waited and Henry screwed up the courage to speak, both to him and in front of the class.

“Well,” the boy finally stuttered, “last night we had this dessert that my mom made with strawberries,” he said, not quite meeting Ed’s eyes.

“We can tell you never miss a dessert already, Duffy,” someone said across the classroom and the boy visibly reddened; the Professor whipped his head in that direction, his ponytail lashing, and his eyes glittered and that quickly put an end to that nonsense.

“Please go on, Duffy,” the Professor said, letting a little bit of fang show.

Henry fidgeted around, but then Daniel poked him with his foot and he started off again.

“So anyways, I was wondering…because I’m not to fond of strawberries, that maybe if there was a way,” he had his hands fisted up in front of him on his desk and he was studying them hard, “to make the strawberries turn into chocolate with alchemy, because…I like chocolate better,” he finished out in a mumble.

Edward disliked ribbing of any kind, _(he thought he’d made it more than evident on the very first day)_ , and while not playing favorites he was feeling a little protective of one of his ‘gang of four’ as he’d taken to calling them in his mind. So he made a big display of Henry’s question, and why it was an excellent question, because why hadn’t he thought of that before? All those years of forcing greens down his throat to satisfy Al, wasted.

“A man after my own heart,” he proclaimed loudly, “I would prefer chocolate too, and it’s a very interesting question besides,” and Edward got to thinking, he had never transmuted _tastes_ before, and was it in any sense possible? The more he though about it, the more his mind began to knead on it, and the more it kneaded on it, the more the theory began to rise, and he suddenly found himself a the blackboard and his stick of chalk out of is vest pocket and in his hand. Behind him he heard the expectant murmur, he didn’t see many of them grip the edges of their desks or quickly flip open their array journals, because suddenly he was focused on the end of a piece of chalk hovering within a mere centimeter of an surface…one that he must now cover in equations.

***

He was off! He was writing so fast it was impossible to follow, the clicking of chalk was a rapid fire assault on the eardrums, the spray of chalk dust rained down over his hair and the shoulders of his vest because he always started writing as high up as he could reach on the chalk board, _(there was always plenty of blank space he couldn’t reach at the top, every now and again he’d have Boyd come to the front of the class and write notes up in that space)_ , and he would theorize aloud and alternately cackle in mad glee like some insane mad scientist and they were all on the ride and couldn’t get off and they loved it!

“IF you KNOW the construction of a COCOA BEAN,” he frothed, “then it would probably make the process a lot simpler…but since you’re trapped at the dinner table with no hope of making a break for the kitchen you just have to make DO with the RESOURCES at hand.” He flailed for a moment and the clicking hovered there in the air waiting to strike again, but then he threw up his hand, waved the chalk around and started off again, “I think the symbol for air would apply in any case as it would be needed to be called on to fuel the fire symbol, which would be implemented to heat the reaction…” More frantic quotation slathering on the board and some unintelligible gibbering over that followed.

“IF you DON’T burn up the table cloth with this bit,” he half-shrieked, “then I suggest you go onto the next step of taking the matter of the strawberries and liquefying them because I’m sure you’d want a chocolate SAUCE,” he continued, “Especially if you’re having cake and it’s dry,” he sneered, and he kept on writing, now having to bend over further and further to do so.

They all trembled in anticipation, pencils at the ready, waiting…waiting…and then, pay dirt! He started to draw an array! He made it look like child’s play, the sheer speed at which he could create one, out of thin air. For the few students who were motivated enough, _(and this was all of them really, the professor wouldn’t accept less)_ , who’d done some research on their own, they were astonished that he seemed to be able to pluck the intricate, energy absorbing alchemic circles from the air. If they had read with any real interest and delved deep enough they would learn of men who’d spent their entire lifetimes developing just a single array to perfection, but the Professor could just offer them up, like a mother stringing beans for dinner, with no real thought in it at all, and they always _worked_.

And now he was offering up to them the means to never have to eat a vegetable in its natural form again! The man was a miracle! A true innovator of their time, worthy of the title the state had given him, champion of the down trodden! They were well and truly, twenty-three hero worshiping minions, that though they had been strangers before, one fateful morning, when they’d all gathered for class, _(but the Professor was late because the Dean came to get him…again)_ , they swore a pact. Their Professor was cooler than any other teacher in the whole of the Academy, and it was their mission to let everyone else know what they were missing out on. Sure he was hard, and scary, and strict, but he was really fair too; and yes, he gave mountains of homework, and made you feel like a complete simpleton with that mocking laugh of his if you did or said anything stupid…but most of the time you completely deserved it, _(that didn’t apply to the homework, that was just not right, and he couldn’t be talked out of it, when they’d tried he doubled it)_ ; and so that’s when the Society of the Alchemic Brotherhood was formed, _(and Professor Elric has pointed at them and laughed at the name, but what did he know, he was an adult and was clinging to the edge of cool with his metal fingers, but just barely)_ , and their motto was to promote Alchemy for the good of mankind. After all, wasn’t the state alchemist motto: “Be thou for the People”, and wasn’t their Professor, the famous FullMetal Alchemist, also known as The Alchemist for the People?

The Professor had kind of sobered up at that and granted them access to the room on Thursday afternoons and said he would stay late so they could have meetings. Really, he was just the best.

***

The Professor jumped back then, put his hands on his hips and his head whipped back and forth as he double checked his own equations. He tapped his foot and nodded his head a couple of times, then half turned and seemed to be startled there was a class sitting behind him. He noticed after a moment they all had their array journals open and were writing in them, several sets of eyes in perfect sync, looking up at him, _(no, not at him, at the board)_ and then back down to their books. Ed was rather proud how he was molding them into to note takers, something very important in the practice of alchemic science. It occurred to him at the very moment they were noting down the array on the black board. Edward then remembered the last time an array had clawed its way out of his head in front of them. He suddenly leapt to the board and swiped his sleeved arm down the array, obscuring it, and then turned on the cries of denial behind him.

“Oh no, you little fiends!” the Professor hissed. “Not this time! The last time I did that, one of you, and I will find out WHO, went home and transmuted their sister’s playhouse into a snap trap! I got all kinds of blessed out for that in the Dean’s office! If one of you little hooligans turns the pot roast for dinner into a pot full of chocolate sauce I’ll never hear the end of it!” The Professor was pointing at them now.

“Seth, I know you probably got it finished! I want you to tear it out of your book right now!” The Professor commanded, and Seth hung his head and then there was the tearing of paper and the Professor held out his gloved metal hand and Seth plodded glumly up front and handed over the sheet.

“I want to see everyone’s journal before you leave class!” The Professor exclaimed and went and sat himself behind his desk. “Starting right to left, first row, then the second row and so on, come on and form a line right here!”

A few boys had to have the Professor scribble out late to class apology notes at the end, because the Professor had scrutinized and dutifully eradicated every ‘chocolate sauce array’ he laid his eyes on.

***

It was just dusk when Alphonse checked into headquarters. He was mussed and dirty and dusty and smelled vaguely of rotting vegetables, but no one made comment as he came into the Colonel’s office, stopped before her desk and saluted.

“Lieutenant Colonel Elric reporting as ordered, sir,” he said to her, his eyes searching her face for some clue as to what the urgent recall might be about. His relief was untold when he was able to confirm with his own eyes it wasn’t about his brother or his Pirate, he was sure even she would have been unable to hide that from him.

“You made impressive time,” she said, right to business. “Lieutenant Pharr, bring the Lieutenant Colonel a chair, and yourself as well,” she began opening folders on her desk. “This matter has become far more than a passing annoyance.”

Alphonse took the chair from Pharr and thanked him, sitting down, folding his hands on his knees, trying to pick up from either of them what was going on. Pharr just kept giving him concerned looks and the Colonel has rendered herself unreadable, _(and that aggravated Alphonse to no end)_ , and waited for the two men to get settled.

“We have had many reports,” the Colonel started after Pharr has seated himself, “about thefts and minor damage all over the countryside with in a ten mile radius of Glowstock. Lieutenant Colonel, you have even been on investigative missions to many of these places yourself.” He nodded to Alphonse and he returned the nod. “Unfortunately,” she tapped a sheet in front of her now, “it’s become rather serious. Since your own investigations were inconclusive and filled with local gossip and rumors, and you had yourself given report you thought it might be something minor,” she looked again at Alphonse, “such as an animal or perhaps chimera of low intelligence, I decided to assign a lower ranking agent to the case. So I could move you onto other things.” She dropped her eyes to the report on her desk.

Alphonse shifted then, because something did get through in her expression and he knew that was why she dropped her eyes; his stomach tightened and he felt a cold knot forming in his throat, risking a sidelong look at Pharr, but that only confirmed his fears. Something had gone wrong, terribly wrong.

“We received a report this morning, Second Lieutenant Lester was found dead in Lower Braden, that’s about five miles out of Glowstock proper,” she said quietly, “I’m going to assign you and First Lieutenant Pharr to the case as well as a couple of agents from the information department. I’ll have more on who we select later. Lieutenant Colonel, you will go home and get some rest and report back first thing in the morning… The same for you Lieutenant Pharr.”

The both swiftly rose to their feet and saluted. Alphonse forcing his hand not to tremble as he did so, keeping has back ramrod straight.

“You’re dismissed,” she said, closing the folder on her desk.

Alphonse turned and strode for the door, holding himself in check as he went, he didn’t even spare a glance for Pharr.

 _His blood is on my hands, that man’s blood is on my hands. Because I didn’t catch it, because I didn’t follow through, it’s as if I strangled him myself._

Alphonse kept up his pace down the hallway; it was late enough that the main building was mostly deserted but for the guards, and he didn’t lift his head to acknowledge them.

 _But it never gave any indication of violence, it always just fled before, my conclusions should have been sound. All that nonsense about it being metal, a metal-limbed child of all things, making the circuit of the lower counties, over and over as if in a big circle. It’s ridiculous._

He rushed down the steps and argued with his breathing and his tightening chest.

 _Then what do you call your own brother?_ A voice not quite his own suddenly asked, _Your brother has metal limbs and he traveled, he was well traveled, so where you…_

Alphonse rubbed his face, willing this damn inconvenient voice to silence; why did it always show up to throw redundant council at him when he was stressed, and what did it mean? It was the _before_ , wasn’t it? The damnable _before_ he would never shake no matter how hard he tried, no matter how hard Ed apparently wanted him too. He could see it in every gesture his brother made when even the slightest mention of the _before_ surfaced. Had it truly been that horrible?

But that had no precedent here-- what mattered now was finding out what happened before anyone else paid the price of Alphonse’s foolishness. Before anymore blood spilled onto white gloves embroidered with arrays in the palms. A man was dead because Alphonse had filed a misleading report. Oh, it might be said he did his job with the information available, but that was not so, because his information would never leave a man dead, his family grieving.

He burst into the cool night air, took several deep breaths and headed for the entrance gate. He would walk home and think just about his failure every step of the way.

Because what hurt more? This man’s death or the disappointment he saw as she dropped her eyes to her desktop. How fucking petty are you, Alphonse Elric, to even compare the two?

***

  
“He hasn’t been home in two fucking months and now he has another assignment,” Ed flung out as he came into the bedroom after his usual evening check-in call with Alphonse, “I haven’t seen him since the holidays and he’s been so busy he hardly calls _or_ writes.” He sat down on the side of the bed, toeing off his house slippers and pulling his house sweater up over his head, fingers going to work at the tie of his arm ‘sock’ at his automail shoulder. “What is Riza doing with him? He’s not her only field agent. He wouldn’t tell me a damn thing about the new mission either, he said it was ‘military business’, like he can’t discuss that with me! I make my bed with the military every damn day!” Edward looked at Roy pointedly, “Sleep with it, too! What is so secretive he can’t discuss it? Do you know?” Edward narrowed his eyes at his lover, who was sitting up against the headboard, book resting in his lap.

“I know nothing,” Roy said. “That’s between him and Colonel Hawkeye, where it should be,” Roy closed his book, knowing it would be a hopeless cause now, when Ed came to bed on the verge of rant, just getting to sleep would be a miracle. “Just because you are a professor at the military academy doesn’t make you an insider to the military’s business. You’re a civilian, Edward, you need to get used to it; there will sometimes be things I’m not at liberty to discuss as well,” Roy said then frowned at the glare Edward leveled on him. “And you well know it! So don’t look at me like that.. You’re being unfair. It’s for your own safety mostly; I find I prefer you as a teacher than as a field agent. It’s easier to keep tabs on you and I’m not likely to find you in the hospital on any given day.”

Edward got up and yanked open his dresser drawer, snatched out his flannel pajamas and jerked them on, then put a sock on his automail foot-- he did this for Roy, so cold toes didn’t wake him in the middle of the night. Roy sighed behind him, and when he turned around to look at him, Roy pulled the bed covers down on Edward’s side of the bed.

“You haven’t got much longer until his decommission,” Roy said. “That’s probably the reason Riza is getting as much as she can out of him right now. He’ll be eighteen in a few months, his contract will come due around that time, and his time in the military will be over. Then the two of you can duke it out at will and I’ll be the happy middleman. He takes pride in his work, Edward, and so should you.”

“What a thing to say,” Ed said, crawling up into the bed and letting Roy throw the coverlet and blanket up over him. “Of course I’m proud of his work; who in their right mind wouldn’t be? I just think he is my brother after all, and I have a right to be selfish about him every now and again.” Edward flopped down and wiggled around getting comfortable in his pillows, he had three and Roy only had one, but he growled like a wounded wolverine whenever Roy rolled over onto one.

Roy sat the book on his bedside table, reached over and switched off the lamp and settled down himself, Edward shifted then, to fit against his side and Roy rolled toward him, hooking an arm over him, nosing his ear.

“You know for an elder brother who doesn’t have the stature of one,” and then Roy grinned and had to wrestled with Ed for a moment, “you sure do throw a big shadow,” he continued after he had him mostly pinned. “And you think you’re his mother,” Roy snickered.

“Point?” Ed gritted out, panting and squirming from where Roy was half lying on top of him.

“Let him spread his wings, Ed,” Roy said. “It’s not going to hurt him, and there isn’t any reason you can’t be a mother hen from a distance,” there was more squirming and grunting. “You’ll find if you back off a little he’ll come back to the nest more often.”

“Your analogies leave a lot to be desired,” his lover hissed. “Now get off of me; I have to sleep. I have to get up early in the morning and so do you.”

Roy sighed and eased off to his side of the bed again, fingered a pillow until Edward snatched it away and re-tucked it to his advantage.

“I think I liked it better when you were shiftless and lay around on the couch all day; you had no trouble having sex every night then,” Roy sighed.

“It’s your own fault for wanting me to be responsible,” Ed snorted, “now sleep in the bed you made and let me do the same.”

Roy could hardly argue with that.

***

He reported before the first pot of coffee had finished brewing. He stood at attention in front of her desk as she handed over case files and orders; he was the senior officer on this mission-- Pharr and the two agents from information, Morton and Haartje, were under him. He listened with rapt attention as she described his objectives: seek and locate, capture if possible, orders to kill if necessary. The body had come in sometime during the night, he was to report to the mortuary and meet with Lieutenant Pharr there, he would attend the autopsy to see if there were any clue as to what they were dealing with, he was to leave from the autopsy to the train station to meet with the rest of his team, and they were to take an early afternoon train.

He saluted, case files securely under his arm, shoulder bag and suitcase by his feet.

“Most importantly,” the Colonel finished, “be careful and report back as soon as possible,” she said.

“I won’t let you down, sir,” he said, because he’d already let her down enough.

***

He had stood in grim silence, shrugging off Pharr’s hand on his shoulder. He had wrought this; he would face it. He did his best to keep his eyes forward, listen to everything the coroner had to say, to suppress the shaking in his fingers and the constant swallowing that made his throat move. Finally the doctor pulled the sheet up over the man’s head and nodded to the two observers; it was over. Alphonse extracted the promise of a full written report sent to their location, turned on his heel and told Pharr to follow him. They met up with the two other agents assigned to the mission at the train station, and they boarded the train together and sat together near the back of the first passenger car. As the train shuddered and made its way out of the station Alphonse began to speak of the autopsy, his conclusions and his theories on what might have happened. Nothing concrete yet as he would have to visit the crime scene and catalogue it in detail, and he steadfastly refused to meet Pharr’s concerned gaze even once.

***

Disembarking from the train in Lower Braden, they group was met by a representative of the local authorities. A telegram from the Colonel had told him to expect them at a certain time, and the man had a car with which he drove them out to the farmhouse where the incident had occurred. In the trunk, he had thought to bring all of Second Lieutenant Lester’s personal effects and he brought them out, all carefully boxed and labeled, to hand over to the team. The family who lived in the farmhouse had agreed to give the investigators board while they conducted the investigation. It was only to their advantage after all, because if the killer was still about and it was no telling who could be next.

They bunked up two to a room, and Alphonse naturally shared with Pharr, but invited the other two in for a close examination of Second Lieutenant Lester’s things. The man’s suitcase was typical, clothing, shaving equipment, notebooks, _(which Alphonse immediately took out, handing one to Haartje and the other to Morton and told the men to read through them thoroughly)_ , and other odds and ends. Lester had not been on the assignment very long. Alphonse found a copy of his own report from a few months prior at the very bottom of the suitcase, it was well creased and marked up in passages that Lester seemed to think important.

The second thing among Lester’s things was a small camera box. When Alphonse pried it open he discovered the camera was smashed and pieces of it fell to the floor at his feet. He also noticed, with some disheartening, the roll of film that must have been in the camera at the time was also crammed into the box, but lengths of it lay exposed outside of its case, and it was, in all likelihood, ruined. He and Pharr dug through the clothing, going to through the pockets of each article, _(this made Alphonse uncomfortable because it seemed extremely personal)_ , and laying anything they found out on one of the beds for examination.

There was a matchbook advertisement from an Inn in a town called Payton; its location would need to be checked. There was some hand written receipts obviously being kept for reimbursement purposes. Coins and mints, small scraps of paper wadded up, and a folded note that had an interesting pencil sketch on it. The artist’s attempt was questionable at best, the figure crude and smudged, but it seemed to have large teeth, and an attempt to draw automail. The right arm and the left leg; identical to his brother’s own prosthetics. It nagged at him, made him tingle and rub his temple. At the bottom in what Alphonse recognized as Lester’s handwriting from his notebooks were three sentences.

Purple eyes.

Black hair.

Red line markings.

Something crowded the corner of his mind. Something with purple eyes and black hair and a cruel mocking laugh and a beauty that was frightening. But she had no metal limbs, and the man with her had no metal limbs. But then he thought he saw, on the beefy shoulders of her round companion, red circles and red lines, running over his shoulders and down his arms.

“What is it, Lieutenant Colonel?” Pharr’s thought drew his head up and he looked at him a moment and then held out the paper.

“Look at this Pharr… Does the sentences at the bottom mean anything to you?” Alphonse asked.

Pharr took the paper, studied it for a few moments, shook his head no and passed it on to the other two men in the room. They both shook their heads over it as well and Alphonse retrieved it, folded it and put it in his pocket.

“What’s our plan?” Pharr asked him.

It was a good question, and Alphonse already had a good answer.

“First thing tomorrow, Lieutenant Pharr and I will go over the barn out back with a fine tooth comb,” Alphonse began, “Sergeant Major Haartje, you and Sergeant Morton will start a door to door sweep of the area-- I know it’s sparsely populated, but let’s do a perimeter of at least three to five miles, I have a map in my shoulder case. You’ll interview locals who are willing to cooperate.”

Everyone one nodded in agreement then all looked up simultaneously at a light rap on the open door.

“I don’t mean to bother you gentlemen,” the lady of the house said, printed dress and apron in place, hair wound on top of her head, “but I made some dinner if you care to have any.”

They all rose from their sitting positions around the room and followed her through her family’s farm house, and Alphonse felt those twinges again, scratching dully above his ears and above his brows, that such a setting should be reminding him of something he’d never known.

***

“Where did you get this?” Eric said in hushed guilty tones, glancing around again, not feeling their hiding place was secure enough.

“Quite being such a worry wart,” Daniel informed him, on his knees, stick scratching in the dirt, eyes straying back and forth to a penciled drawing next to him.

“What’s it suppose to do?” Duffy asked, squatted next to Daniel and watching his crude attempt to copy the array from paper to earth with only a stick to guide him.

“I was told it could make an object into a snap and pop, you know like those things you throw at the ground?” Daniel grinned. “I got a good joke,” he snickered.

“Oh yeah, who you gonna do it to?” Duffy said, edging closer, “Professor Wright?” Professor Wright was the ever-dreaded math teacher, master of the surprise quiz.

“No, but that’s a good one,” Daniel said, “maybe next time.”

“We’re going to get into trouble,” Eric said above them, arms folded, “and it won’t be long until the bell rings and we have to go back in.”

“Hold your horses Mr. Uptight,” Daniel snorted. “I’m almost done.”

“So who you gonna get?” Duffy pressed again, “and what are you gonna transmute anyways?”

Daniel put the last finishing touches on the array and then grinned feral like and pulled an eraser out of his pocket.

“You both know how Professor _Taylor_ likes to make all those stupid huge hand gestures and anything he’s got in his hand usually goes flying.” He placed the eraser into the circle.

“What are you guys doing?” a voice said behind them, making them all age a year prematurely and jerk and turn around with excuses clawing their way to their lips. But it was only Seth, the snitch, whom they hadn’t invited in the first place, _(because he was such a snitch)_. This would call for some major leaning and bully-type huffing and threatening growls. Duffy got up, went over and threw his arm over Seth’s shoulder and more or less dragged him over to the circle, that way if anyone saw them he was an accomplice. Seth sputtered and tried to resist, but he was much slighter than the other boys and he looked nervously at the scratched dirt before them.

“What are you doing? I don’t recognize that array, is that something Professor Elric gave you? You know we aren’t supposed to do unauthorized alchemy! Especially without a teacher present,” Seth whined.

“Which is precisely why you’re going to stand here with us while we do it,” Daniel said, “that way you can’t run and tattle, because we’ll just say you’re in on it too.”

“That’s so mean!” Seth wailed, “I don’t to get in trouble, I was just looking for you… I mean walking by and the bells gonna ring soon anyways.”

“I keep telling them time is of the essence, but as usual they don’t want to listen,” Eric butted in.

“Now all of you shut up and watch,” Daniel studied the array, squared his jaw and laid his hands on the outer circle, “when this thing goes off at Professor Taylor’s feet he’s gonna wet his pants…it will be great,” Then Daniel gave the little instinctive push that he felt through his stomach and chest, and the circle began to crackle and glow green.

***

“PROFESSOR ELRIC,” Richard Timbers came charging into the empty classroom and waving his arms frantically, “DanielandEricandDuffyandSeth,” he panted, “blewthemselvesup!” He ran in place for a few moments.

“What?” Edward said, “Blew themselves up?” Ed raised an eyebrow.

“Out behind the mess hall, there was a big flash of green light,” and Richard threw his hands in the air to demonstrate, “and everything smelled like that smell when you make something transmute and there was this BOOM,” Richard gibbered.

Edward got to his feet and watched the boy run a small frantic circle.

“Cappy Hoyt said that they had this array they got from one of the seniors and they were going to try it out!” Richard pointed frantically out the door. “And they did and blew up!”

“An ARRAY?!” Ed yelped. “Behind the mess hall?” Ed rushed out, the boy shoving him at the door in front of him, “Green light?! Smell of ozone?!” he screeched as they both ran hell bent down the front hallway. “You know I’LL GET BLAMED,” Professor Elric shrieked as they made the door and ran outside.

***

Ed waded into the smoke and tripped over a body, and then hit the ground as the body groaned. He got to his hands and knees and patted around frantically, his hands finally encountering a leg which he pawed his way up to its shoulders and pulled the figure into a sitting position. It was Duffy.

“What the hell happened? Are you ok?” Edward restrained himself from _shaking the boys brains out_ , like he wanted too.

“Professor?” Duffy said groggily. “What happened?” he asked Edward as if he knew and then he coughed, but he was sitting up by himself and he only looked a little singed. Edward deemed him ok enough to look for the others.

He stayed on his hands and knees, patting around, but the smoke was finally starting to dissipate, and he found Eric and Daniel in short order; both could sit up and both started coughing as well. He then found Seth, the boy’s glasses were askew on his face and he had black smudges on his forehead and he seemed to be groggier than the others.

“Seth? Seth? Talk to me,” Edward said. “Can you see my hand, Seth?”

He wanted to kill them and they had terrified him out of his mind; both emotions had rolled and clashed in his brain and stomach as he had ran down the walk for the mess hall after Richard Timbers. Richard was remarkable in that he could screech and run at the same time.

The boy blinked rapidly at him suddenly, and then he actually smiled, lopsided and groggy.

“Professor Elric,” he said cheerfully and then he fell to coughing and Edward rubbed his back and wiped at his forehead.

They were ok; they were all ok. He found he’d been holding his breath and he didn’t know why. His chest suddenly loosened and he didn’t realize it had been tight. Whatever had a grip on him broke free and washed over him now, other teachers were joining them, and the school nurse had been summoned.

What was this feeling? It had been a cold dread and he stood as another teacher knelt by Seth and asked him how he was feeling.

 _”Don’t worry Al, it will work.”_

Edward ran a face over his hand. He could never let that happen, never let that repeat. How could he have been so blind to think that once he’d started feeding their curiosity, they wouldn’t strive for more? Hell, he practically rubbed their faces in it.

 _Maybe this is my fault._

The boys were being hauled to their feet, one by one. Edward glanced over at the blackened circle in the dirt and saw something lying in the middle of it. It looked like one of the erasers the school had for clearing blackboards. _(Ed had no use for them, he did his clearing with a small array kept drawn in the lower left hand corner of the blackboard that a simple touch and not much thought activated)_.

Suppose it was things like that, showing them all these little nonsense things, things that meant nothing in alchemy. Maybe that was the motivation. The array itself was too burnt out now for Edward to make out it’s path and determine it’s usage. There was a burnt scrap of paper nearby, and Edward picked it up. It’s unburned portion showed a portion of the array that must have been drawn on the ground.

Daniel was already complaining about the sting of a scratch on his neck when it was pressed with a handkerchief, and Edward scowled, already devising the hellish torture he was going to call punishment in his brain. He stepped forward absently and bent down to pick up the eraser left in the circle.

“Professor Elric!” The Dean’s tight tones sounded behind him and Ed startled, straightening up and accidentally dropping the eraser.

The second explosion was a bit louder than the first.

***

“WHAT?” The General leapt up from his chair. “Which hospital?” he shrieked into the phone.

He slammed down the phone, whirled and yanked his great coat off the stand, making it topple to the floor, and he moved around his desk as he yanked it on, Havoc hot on his heels.

“What happened?” the blonde cried as he rushed after his General down the hall.

“Something at the school blew up,” the General yelled, rounding the corner for the stairs.

“At the Academy?” Havoc said, rushing to keep up. “What blew up? Did Ed have something to do with it?”

“I think so,” the General said, hurrying down the stairs. “Apparently Ed blew up!” He called over his shoulder, "Hold the fort here Havoc, I’ll call you with details!”

Havoc slowed to stop on the stairs and watched the Generals coat tails disappear around the corner at the bottom. Havoc sighed, and here they’d thought they’d given Ed a _safe_ assignment.

***

He had spent the better part of the day, on his hands and knees, on the floor of a barn. He had picked every small thing up in his filthy hands; he’d practically pressed his nose to every scratch in the dirt. And the dried dark stain he had carefully skirted with reverence and respect. He left nothing unturned. Pharr had done similar things, in the stalls, in the hayloft. He’d pulled his commanding officer outside when the deputy had come bearing fuzzy black and white photographs of the aftermath of the attack. He had run into the house, dug out his magnifying glass, not caring what he got all over the clean clothes in his suitcase. He’d used the hood of a squad car as a table for examination.

He owed it all to Second Lieutenant Lester. Second Lieutenant Thomas Lester, whose wife Helen was left to raise their daughter alone. When he’d learned of the man’s family something inside him cringed, hit so hard he almost had to double over physically. Something about the situation struck a cord so deep within him that he felt it almost strum against his very soul. Why was that? Why did certain things, half formed speculation, sometimes strike with ferocity untold?

He found strange impressions in the dirt, some of them destroyed by the footprints of the men who had retrieved the body. Pharr had found remains of food, stashed under the hay in the loft. Hard bread, hard cheese, half rotten vegetables, a horde abandoned when Lester’s blood fell on the barn floor, mingling in the dirt and hay.

So what was different this time? What was the trigger? What had Lester seen that no one else had? What had he heard? In the time Alphonse had spent on this case he’d never even caught a glimpse. He floundered on trails so cold as to be non-existent. Why had he just let this go as he had, because nothing had happened in his investigations? He read into his own press? If Alphonse Elric says there is nothing to worry about then we believe him, unquestioningly, he would never lead us wrong.

After a dinner he’d only stared at, he retreated to his borrowed room, shuffling the black and white photographs over and over in his hands. Lester never moved; he still lay like a broken doll on the barn floor. His arms outspread, his legs splayed disjointedly. His blue jacket with a dark stain spread across the chest, the skirt of his uniform crumbled under his back. What was it different about Lester that had caused an attack?

His uniform.

Alphonse knew that other than himself, no one else had been assigned to these strange robberies. He’d went about in his own clothes, special dispensation to dress like a civilian. He’d received the honor at twelve, the same as Edward had, and he hadn’t really thought about it. He had a dress uniform, when functions called for it, but he had no standard issue; he’d never needed it.

Lester was in uniform; he was even equipped with a gun belt. The gun had still been buckled into it, never drawn, never fired in defense. Alphonse rubbed his face. Was that the link? What that the cause? This creature, whatever it was, could discern between civilian clothes and a uniform? It was not a chimera. It was capable of sentient thought; it could recognize conformities of society, and it had a hatred for the military.

Pharr joined him after a while, sitting across form him on the small cot, Alphonse looked up at him.

“I might be onto something. I want you and Morton and Haartje to be extra careful, because you’re all in uniform,” Alphonse said.

Pharr raised his eyebrow. “I don’t understand,” he said.

“I think Lester was attacked because he was in uniform,” Alphonse offered the photos over again, even though Pharr had stared at them in length alongside him on the hood of the squad car.

“His gun was never drawn or fired; he was not expecting an attack. From what we know this is the only attack to date, on a person,” Alphonse said, “and it didn’t add up. So we have to say, what as different about Lester? It’s obvious-- he was wearing a uniform.”

“That means,” Pharr said slowly, “what we are up against isn’t a feral animal or a chimera.”

Alphonse bowed his head, chaffed his hands together.

“Yes,” he said, “it means I was wrong and I cost that man his life.”

“Lieutenant Colonel,” Pharr said, “I don’t think, with the evidence you had available, that your theories were unsound.”

Alphonse nodded solemnly. “That doesn’t make Lester any less dead,” he said, he held up his hand to ward off Pharr’s reply. “Let’s get some sleep; we need to start fresh in the morning, I’m going to have Harrtje and Morton widen their perimeter and I think we’ll be joining them.”

Pharr nodded, stood to take off his jacket and and shirt. Alphonse just lay back on his bunk having kicked off his shoes; he wasn’t fool enough to think sleep would be visiting him.

***

The General stopped briefly at the nurse’s station for directions and trotted down the hall, glancing up at room numbers that were in neat black type beside each door. He located the appropriate number and opened the door slowly, then ducked in closing it softly behind him.

The man sitting upon the bed turned to face him and scowled. Roy felt a wave a relief; a scowl was proof that Edward Elric was all right. Roy sighed and put on a half smile and surveyed his lover as he approached the bed. Edward had a bandage on his right cheek and his automail arm was in a bucket sitting on a small table on the bedside. He was slightly pink on the right side and watched Roy come, tight lipped and sullen. When Roy opened his mouth to speak, Edward held up his flesh hand then raised a finger and made a circle in the air.

“Come on over to the flesh side,” he said, a little over-loud, “I can’t hear anything on this side, but I’m told the eardrum is still in tact. Small wonder I suppose… I guess my reflexes haven’t quite deteriorated yet.”

Roy moved around to the left side of the bed, caught the flesh and kissed the fingers of it, eyes glancing up to meet Edward’s.

“What happened?” the General said, releasing Ed’s hand.

“I blew up,” Ed said wryly, “in a nice loud green and white flare, accompanied by the sound of thunder. It was a quite spectacular thing. The Dean landed on his ass, and several people all hit the ground around me. It was quite the spectacle.”

“Why is your arm in the bucket?” the General said.

“Oh that,” Edward said. “Well it heated up quite a bit, and I had to hold it very far away from my body since I didn’t want to cook my own ribs. The hand is all black now and it will take forever to scrub it off. I’ll have to use steel wool most likely, then the buff will be ruined and when I have my annual check up, Winry will give me a concussion,” he said sourly.

Roy reached out and touched the non-bandaged cheek, moved the pad of his thumb to down and stroked the pouting lower lip gently.

“Your cheek ok?” he asked softly.

“It’s just a cut,” Edward sighed, “I really didn’t want to come here; they _made_ me,” he sneered, “and then I told them not to call you, but they _ignored_ me,” he growled. “I’m leaving here with you,” he stated, “don’t think I’m not, so you might as well go and tell them,” he declared.

“I’ll see what I can do,” the General said, feeing a bit more at ease. He looked at Edward a moment more, eyes roaming back and forth and then dropped his gaze and sucked on his lips.

“Go ahead,” Ed snarled. “I know you want too, you’re dying to; it was all over your face the second you walked in.”

“No, what are you talking about? I was worried the whole trip over here, it’s just the relief at seeing you’re alright,” he supplied, looking to the side.

“No really, it’s all right, I think I need a second opinion anyways,” Ed simpered, “who better than you to give it to me. Look at me,” he ordered.

Roy raised his eyes slowly, still sucking on his lip, his eyes moved up and down again and he looked down at Edward’s hand on the side of the bed.

“Well?” Edward said exasperated.

“I’m going to go get a cup of coffee while we wait for your discharge,” Roy said suddenly, “shall I bring you one?”

“ROY,” Edward growled.

“It’s just that, I’ve never seen them so short,” the General said, “I mean they’ve always been down to here,” and he made a swiping motion at the bottom of his jaw, “and now they are about here,” he raised his hand to the level of his eyes. “It’s not that it’s bad, it’s just different, and will take some getting use to.”

“This side got burned,” Ed hissed, gesturing with his flesh hand toward his missing bangs, “and when the nurse trimmed it off she said she had to even me out,” he snarled, “and it’s weird! My face feels naked!”

“I’m going to get coffee,” Roy rushed and started for the door.

“Lying bastard!” Ed yelled after him, “You’re going in the hall to laugh! I’ve already been told I look like I’m a kid,” he screeched.

The General let one snort of laughter escape him before just making a break for it and rushing out the door.

***

Fate or luck or whatever you want to call it met them at the end of the drive the next morning. The deputy brought news of a possible sighting not more than six miles away.

Alphonse ordered Morton and Haartje to stay behind and continue with their surveying in case this was another false lead. Pharr he told to come with him, and after Pharr got his gun belt, they borrowed a spare squad car and with hand written directions they headed out. It took them just under a half hour to find the farmstead in question, and they made their way to the front porch where the two of them were met by a man and his wife, who described a brief encounter with a creature that seemed to be half machine.

They got the same descriptions they’d heard and read several times before, and they got pointed in the direction of some woods to the far back of the property.

“There is an old rotted out barn back there,” the man said, “when the family use to work those back acres, but we don’t anymore. It’s got some old equipment still in it-- it might be hiding back there.”

They thanked him, told them to stay in the house and stay alert, and together they went out back, through the gate and headed toward the woods in the distance.

***

“What’s the plan if we see it?” Pharr asked as they walked. Alphonse looked over at him.

“We bring it down, by whatever means necessary,” Alphonse said, “I’d like to avoid killing if at all possible,” He dug into his own pockets and pulled out a pair of gloves and pulled them on as they drew closer to the old barn at the edge of the trees.

“Yes, sir,” Pharr said quietly, “I haven’t seen you in your gloves in a while,” he offered.

“The situation seems to call for it,” Alphonse said. “I want you to keep your eyes peeled, and stay as close as possible.” Alphonse had never really had to use his alchemy defensively. He worked over in his mind some quick variations should he need them, things to capture and imprison. Things to protect. Pharr was with him-- too many times people he’d associated with came to harm, and some had even died. But no, that wasn’t right? When was that? He shook his head briefly, rubbed his temple again.

“Sir?” Pharr questioned and Alphonse eyes snapped to him.

“Ah sorry,” Alphonse said, “going over defensive arrays in my mind. It’s ok now, just be alert.” They came upon the old barn and stood for a moment taking it and its surroundings in.

***

Silently, Alphonse stood back as Pharr drew his weapon and approached the barn door; after a moment he nodded and Alphonse joined him, and then Pharr reached up and jammed the rusted latch. With a creak and a spray of rust it leveled upwards, and Alphonse grabbed the handle and pulled back slowly, and the barn yawned, its breath musty and old. Alphonse pulled the door all the way back to the outside wall, and Pharr grabbed the other one, struggling with it a bit as it was warped on his hinges, but moved it to match Alphonse’s and the barn stood open wide.

In its sun-filtered interior sat the rotting corpse of an old tractor. Its tilling attachments hung to one side on the wall, along with a few other harvesting tools, and dust mites hung as thick as cobwebs in the air.

Pharr put his hand up, and gun raised took the first few tentative steps into the interior, scanning the floor then immediately looking up toward the loft. Nothing but silence assaulted them and after a few more cautious steps he nodded and Alphonse followed him in.

Alphonse moved forward past Pharr and the man hissed at him, but he waved him off, bending to inspect the barn floor, looking for the unbalance prints he’d seen in the dirt at the murder site. Pharr hovered over him, but Alphonse motioned for him to back off; he was obscuring the light, so Pharr went a bit deeper into the barn, gun still out and up at the ready, trying to peer into the denser shadows.

“Anything?” the First Lieutenant finally said, to break the tension of the silence, looking over to Alphonse, squatted down and still examining the floor.

“Perhaps, I think…” but he was cut short by a sharp short cry and the sound of a body striking the floor, he looked up to late to see Pharr fall, but not to late to see the figure hurtling at him-- it seemed to be nothing but swirls of engulfing blackness and long white pointed teeth.

***

His arm came up in a defense gesture, he met the attack head-on and dropped, bringing up his knee, catching it in the gut and hurling it over his head, and then he scrambled to his feet, forearm throbbing. It had connected with something much harder than flesh and bone. The thing had an arm made of metal; the reports had not lied.

He turned and sought it desperately with his eyes, seeing it move toward the wall, seeming to effortlessly run up it so it could have the advantage to attack again from above. It would be hard to block and defend from that position, especially with it wielding steel and Alphonse backpedaled, stealing quick sidelong glances at Pharr, sprawled unmoving in the dirt and rotting hay. He got under the lip of the hayloft, making a direct above head attack impossible for the thing now,…or at least he thought. The deafening crash and shower of rotted wood and hay broke that delusion and Alphonse wheeled desperately to the side, narrowly avoiding a lick that also glinted dull when it slashed through a slice of sun.

“Why do you want me?! Leave me alone!” the thing screamed in surprisingly coherent speech, “I’ll kill all you military bastards that come near me! Do you hear me?! All you filthy human scum!”

“Who are you; why are you doing this?” Alphonse yelled back, hoping for diversion and then having to retreat as it advanced, when it threw out its flesh arm or leg he dared to block, but he scrambled to evade the metal limbs, knowing they could overcome him easily. If he fell to it, then what about Pharr; he couldn’t let it kill Pharr, _(Pharr was not dead, he was not, he was only stunned, ONLY STUNNED)_ ; and what was the guarantee it wouldn’t kill him as well, even without a uniform?

He backed into the tractor and it struck as he ducked, its automail leg striking the old tractor, making it sob out in a low metallic moan.

“I’ll kill you!” it shrieked as if the answer the question in Alphonse’s mind, “I’ll kill you like I killed him and leave your out in the sun to stink, that‘s all you are good for, food for maggots!” he screamed fury, it’s purple eyes wide and fevered, it’s mouth of daggers wide.

“What are you?!” Alphonse cried, and for the first time tried to take the offensive, lashing out with the ball of his hand faster than he though capable of. He almost connected with its chin but it bent backwards almost as if it had no spine. It seemed a bit startled at the near contact and retreated a few feet way as if to reevaluated and resize up its opponent.

 _If it corners me it can beat me to death with the automail, I need something to fight with,_ his eyes scanned the barn walls, his back against the old tractor, and for a moment his mind seemed to blank, and then he raised his hands and slammed the palms together and then threw them back to connect with the old tractor.

***

The tractor screamed its metal death throes at it began to melt from its original shape. The axle tore free from the tires and the seat fell through where the chaise had been, it’s metal bumper stood straight up as if to struggle to escapes before it was pulled into the green and blue oxidized metal, flowing like a river around a figure that had been standing at its side.

The creature stood shielding its eyes and when it finally dropped its arm, it bared its teeth and it grinned in a way that no mirth would grace.

“So it’s you,” it grated and hissed. “It’s you. The FullMetal pipsqueak’s brother; I’d know that armor anywhere.”

Alphonse Elric raised his arms in a defensive position, strangely comfortable to be cloaked in steel.

 

**

 

 _Homunculus!_

Yes, that is what it was.

 _Wrath!_

Yes, that is its name.

The armor moved on it’s own, the sound of steel against steel, like the dull blade strikes of old warriors. Blow for blow, Alphonse could drift almost and watch and see the myriad of memories played out before him.

A woman who flowed like water and smiled like sunshine, familiar to the point of pain, lethal to the point of death. Ed’s pleading eyes, Envy’s mocking laugh, his own helplessness and denial.

Block and parry, pivot and spin, the clang again, vibrating his bones but sparing his flesh, he was backing Wrath across the barn, herding him away from Pharr’s still form.

“So he did it. What did he give for it? He’s still a cripple?” Wrath sneered, “He didn’t take his limbs back the mothergatewomb did he; is he dead? Did he die for you? He’s dead, isn’t he, and you’re here now as a bag of meat. You smell like a human; you’ll die like one-- that armor won’t save you!” Wrath flew into a frenzy of rage, and the blows fell like rain, but he was able to deflect the more damaging ones and withstand the lesser ones. He then closed his arm down over the automail leg as it sought to make contact his side. He brought his other hand down hard on the port at the knee and he wrenched up and twisted violently to the side. The rending of metal almost as loud as the hellish scream that accompanied it, and the automail port gave way and Alphonse fell back, holding a leg and Wrath fell the opposite way, sparks flying to mark his descent.

***

“Give up,” he said, but it wasn’t really him saying it, “Stop this now Wrath.”

The homunculus lifted his head and grinned, and then shoved back with its hands and remaining heel, brought itself up against the barn wall and reached up to touch a sickle, rusted and wicked, hanging from a hook on the wall. It shuddered like a living thing, seemed to breathe, then ebbed into the flesh, turning it the color of rusted steel. Then the port that was left clinging to his thigh vibrated and an appendage shot out, not as intricate as the automail, not as functional, but Wrath lurched to his feet with it, bled his smile again and reached for the rotating blades that ran connected on an axis that served as a tiller.

***

The armor blocked with the automail leg, a grisly sword, its connector ports flailing from the broken end, wet with blood and nerves. The scream of metal was different now, it wasn’t a clang, it was a grind and a rend. He deflected one jagged edged blade, but because it was round, it rolled with the movement and hit his forearm, the armor shrieked in agony and bucked under it as it glanced off.

He spun with the momentum, lifting his leg and bringing it around, hearing the grunt, feeling the foot of his suit connect with flesh, and something twist and snap under it.

Wrath has long given up coherency for unintelligible pitches, piercing and inhuman, and the sound of sudden gunfire was so jarringly normal that Alphonse didn’t recognize it for a moment, but Wrath rolled and hit the ground and lay gasping for long moments, strange dark puddles appearing on his chest and exposed stomach.

Alphonse turned, saw Pharr on his feet, the side of his head matted in blood and trickles lacing over his cheek in sticky patterns.

“Lieutenant Colonel,” he gasped, “what is it?!” Pharr’s eyes were wide and unnerved; his gun shook a bit in his outstretched hand.

“Stay back!” Alphonse ordered, “Get to cover, I’ll handle it!”

Pharr opened his mouth to protest then riveted on the spot past Alphonse again, “Sir, look out!” he cried.

Wrath shot his created leg out, it shaped itself into a long spike and it caught Alphonse high in his side, piercing the armor there; he threw himself to the side and only got sliced where he would have been impaled, and he hit the ground and rolled. The gun rang out again, rapidly, and Wrath thrashed and screeched on the ground, kicking his legs and clawing with his arms.

Pharr released the empty cartridge and fumbled with the spare one from his pocket, panting as he worked to lock it into place. Alphonse struggled up to his feet; he couldn’t touch is bleeding side through the armor, but he could feel blood running, and pooling at the waistband of his pants. They had to end this, and fast, there was too much danger.

“It’s a homunculus,” Alphonse yelled at Pharr. “We can’t kill it by normal means!”

“We’ll sure the fuck try anyways,” Pharr yelled back, pulling the slide on his gun and began firing again, advancing as he did, intent on unloading the entire clip into the writhing form on the ground. Alphonse charged forward as well, coming up as Pharr emptied the clip, and grabbing at the flailing automail arm.

He worked without thinking, because to think was to feel. He gripped the wrist tightly in both hands, planted his foot into the blood-slicked side and heaved up and back with all his might. Wrath screamed more in denial than pain-- it had become too far-gone for that-- and the arm tore free from the port and Alphonse stumbled back, holding it. Wrath tried to move again, rolling onto his stomach, scrabbling with it’s remaining arm and its only flesh leg. Its powers seem to have weakened to the point it couldn’t hold form with the leg it had created, and Alphonse raised the steel arm and brought it down with force on the creature’s back. It bucked and shrieked curses.

“We have to stop it! Don’t let it touch anything; it can absorb things into its body to make weapons!” Alphonse yelled at Pharr, lifting the arm to strike the creature again. Pharr threw the useless gun far to the side and ran for the barn wall the creature was trying to reach, after a moment, he turned back. His hands wrapped around the heavy handle of an old wood axe.

“We’ll just have to make sure it can’t touch anything,” he snarled, heading for them. “Sir, stand back,” he said as he came closer, swinging the axe back and then up over his head. Alphonse jerked back and turned his head to the side just as the axe began to fall. He tired not to flinch from the dull sound, the gurgle or the splashes on his chest plate he tried to tell himself was rain.


	5. Chapter 5

The helmet hit the ground and rolled onto its side. Shaking fingers worked at catches that had once been leather, but in the creativity of the moment, were now metal. He didn’t watch as Pharr moved the five bundled pieces away from each other; he was just grateful they found the burlap, rope and rotting boxes. He didn’t want to see if the bundles were still moving. They were wet now, black and dripping. He clawed free of the splattered chest plate, stumbled back and sat, then lay to shimmy out of the lower torso and legs of his tractor fashioned armor.

He scrubbed his face with the arrays on his palms and covered his mouth for a few moments until he felt a little more stable. A shadow fell over him and he looked up at the pale face of First Lieutenant Pharr, spattered with his own blood and the blood of the _other’s_. He reached a hand down to him to help him up.

Alphonse got up, winced and almost doubled over, clutching at his side. Pharr made a move to support him, but he straightened up slowly and gently brushed the older man’s hand aside.

“I’m alright,” Alphonse said, “We have to get the others and get… this… out of here.” He swallowed against the pain and looked at Pharr’s face.

“One of us will need to stay here,” Pharr said, eyes searching Alphonse’s face with concern.

“I’ll stay, you go,” Alphonse half whispered, hand still to his side.

Pharr looked around then, fetched a nearby bucket and brought it over, turning it upside down.

“Sit back down Al, before you fall down,” he urged gently, “You’re looking pale.”

Alphonse didn’t argue with him. He sat slowly with the man’s help and looked up at him again, giving him a ghost of a smile.

“Okay, thanks. Get moving Lieutenant, it will be dark soon and I’d rather not be here by myself when it falls,” he never once looked toward the bundles on the floor.

Pharr nodded and started toward the door, but turned abruptly. He returned to Alphonse’s side long enough to lay a sticky, wood axe by his feet before heading out the door.

***

Edward returned to class the very next day, much to the terror of his students. Twenty-three very hapless individuals huddled in their desk, seeking what wooden protection they could from the blistered, red creature with short bangs at the front of the classroom. It was especially worrisome for four similarly blistered students who were trying so hard to be invisible, it was almost working.

“Today we have a SPECIAL lesson,” the Professor’s voice weaved around the room. It was low, menacing, and it coated the walls, dripping to the floor, where it pooled in liquid puddles of malice.

“We will all learn, and learn very well,” the voice thrummed and hissed, “the folly of using an array we know nothing about.”

“We will learn about breaking school rules, unauthorized practice of alchemy and lack of supervision,” the voice was now creeping toward the napes of the student’s necks, where the hairs stood on end and clung to each other like children lost in the woods.

“All questions will be directed to my LEFT SIDE,” the Professor pointed at his left ear with his flesh hand, “but I don’t expect there will be any questions, as I plan on making myself agonizingly, exactingly, BRUTALLY clear,” he finished off, flicking his forked tongue and showing his razor sharp fangs.

He was not only clear, he assigned enough homework for the weekend to ensure everyone would be a gibbering wreck the following Monday.

***

His weekend, however, was spent being spoiled.

Worried for his joints and his otherwise sore visage, Roy placed him on the couch with a few good books and the coffee table pulled close, laden with snacks. This of course granted Ed the constant companionship of a small black and white terrier. R.D. was now able to leap up onto the couch without needing the General’s helping hand under his tummy. R.D. and Edward had come to a solemn agreement.

R.D. was allowed to be his couch companion on certain conditions. First of all, he had to remain at the far end of the couch, away from Edward’s feet. Not that R.D. particularly wanted to cuddle with steel, but Edward’s other foot was just fine and had been on many occasions, until the blonde alchemist noticed his extremity being adored and snatched it away in protest.

Secondly, R.D. was allowed the edge of the blanket only. No wiggling up under the blanket and edging toward Edward’s flesh foot was allowed: something R.D. had to be reminded of constantly. So, if he stayed at his end of the couch with his allotment of blanket, peace and harmony prevailed.

Lastly, no snacks for R.D. Roy tried to enforce this one onto _Edward_ , who protested mightily to the slight and swore the air blue that he had no interest in giving Roy’s dog any of _his_ junk food, but R.D. now knew the sound of the mixed nut tin and would come running hard enough to leave grooves in the hardwood whenever the tin was opened. It didn’t matter how quietly it was done, the moment the nuts were accessible, R.D. was there. Mixed nuts were a favorite of a particular blonde alchemist, and mysteriously were now also the favorite of a small black and white terrier.

By the time Roy had made sure Edward was comfortable, R.D. had already practically climbed into Ed’s lap. Ed was putting on a big show of concentrating on his book to give the impression he hadn’t noticed the little dog turning in circles between his legs before flopping down with a contented sigh. Ed was so hard nosed when it came to sticking to his rules for the dog. No really, he was.

***

With Edward thus occupied, Roy decided he really should tackle the spare closets to sort out of some of the accumulating stockpiles of things boxed and forgotten.

He worked his way room to spare room, pulling out the odds and ends that he and Alphonse had managed to amass before Edward came along and started adding his own pack rat talents to their lot. He pushed several of Alphonse’s boxes to the middle of the floor of one of the empty rooms. He thought it might be best the boy went through them himself. Alphonse had the habit of bringing home many odds and ends in his travels, not all of which could be deemed safe or practical.

One box in particular caught his eye as he pulled it from the back of the closet. It was halfway open to begin with and a flash of crimson pulled his attention to the dark interior of the cardboard. He flipped the flaps open and sat on his knees for a moment, looking at his discovery. He reached in slowly and lifted the coat from the top of a pile of clothes. Alphonse had given up wearing it shortly after Edward had come back, and even though a year or so had passed, it still didn’t seem to be such a long time since he’d seen it.

But Alphonse had never been its rightful master. It smelled musty, it was probably stored a bit damp. It was scratchy and the right sleeve was tattered at the end, clear evidence of the several times it was caught in the hinge of an automail wrist. The coat ends were darker than the rest, dirty from absorbing mud and rubbing against black leather for miles on end.

It had always preceded its wearer when making an entrance into a room. With its dingy hood pulled up, it was never inconspicuous enough to offer cover. It had, in itself, almost become a personality just for the fact it cloaked one. Roy turned it over in his hands, fingers briefly tracing the pattern sewn on the back. The flamel was bubbled at the edges, old fabric starting to fray. Roy wondered who had done the deed, fastening the alchemic cross to the back of its garish host. Had Edward himself done it? He ran his finger along the straight edge of the cross symbol that made up the core of the badge. Edward had worn it like an offering. He’d worn it like a means of strength. Whenever Roy saw it, he knew it was the signal the boy was going again to put his life on the line for his brother, his cause or his country. It was sometimes a relief to see it moving away and taking its fevered follower with it, but after its original barer had vanished _(taking most of Roy’s soul with him)_ , it became a dull, flat, black thing hanging shapelessly on the back of another young man who would always be rushing away.

He had grown to hate it as much as he loved it, but what was it now when everything had miraculously righted itself?

It was a cherished thing. Roy got up and carried it out to reunite it with its long lost harbinger of things both joyous and painful.

***

“Talk about feeling old,” Edward actually dared to say when the coat was laid across his lap.

“Somehow you always know just the right thing to say to make me regret every thought I’ve ever had,” Roy said, exasperated. “I’ll let you know when to feel old. Until then, refrain from talking about it.”

“Testy,” Ed said, giving the older alchemist a smirk and holding the coat up himself to have a look at it. “But it does take me back; pardon me if I’m making you feel antique.”

Roy snorted and watched Edward extract himself from his nest. He rolled R.D. off into the warm spot, stood and shrugged the coat on over his sweater. It pulled tight over his shoulders and Edward grunted, wiggling back out of it to pull the sweater off and toss it on the couch. When he tried again, he found that it was still snug and the sleeves rode up on his arms, exposing his wrists entirely. Where it used to hang just below his knees, now it fell just above them, but Edward tugged its lapels forward like he always did and glanced at Roy, grinning like he always had. The General couldn’t help the little smile that spread on his face.

“I’m so happy it doesn’t fit anymore, I might puke,” Edward said, accenting the moment in his usual fashion.

“You really like to jump on the joy of any given moment and make it whine in submission, don’t you?” the General said.

“I only do it because talking dirty makes you hot,” Edward grinned.

“I am so honored you think so highly of me to lowbrow me into arousal,” the General returned.

R.D. added one loud yap right at that juncture and they both stopped to look at him, causing the dog to tilt his head and wag his tail.

Edward snorted, “HEY! You’re in my spot, get back to your spot!” _(Never mind that R.D. had been in Edward’s forbidden lap when Roy had walked in)_. This of course, had no effect on the terrier whatsoever. Edward shrugged the coat off and tossed it into Roy’s face.

“Maybe you’d appreciate it more if I came to bed in just the coat and pretended I was fifteen again. You could relive your glory days of pederasty once more,” Edward taunted. “I guess I’m getting too old to properly turn you on.”

Roy straightened the coat, draping it over his arm. He turned on his heel, and walked toward the hallway.

“Heaven forbid,” he said over his shoulder, “I think I’ll go hang this in the closet.”

“What for?” Ed called after him, dragging his sweater back over his head and freeing his ponytail when it snagged in the collar. He started to flop back down onto the couch, but remembered the dog at the last moment and managed to catch himself with the back of the couch before sitting on him. He snorted in indignation, picked the puppy up and deposited him on the far end of the couch, away from his nest. In the moment or two it took him to rearrange again so he could flop, R.D. mysteriously reappeared in the spot he’d just been evicted from. Edward scowled and carefully flopped around him, glaring at Roy across the room, reminding him that this dog was _his fault_.

“To remind me,” the General said, pausing at the arched entrance of the living room where he watched Edward scoot around to accommodate a dog whose existence, according to Edward, was frivolous, “of my carefree days when I thought bad sex was hot,” the General marched into the hallway in triumph.

“BASTARD!” chased him down the hall.

***  
He was, for once, grateful of his rank. He could delegate, and delegate he did, leaving the barn and its ghastly contents to the others. Alphonse had left Pharr in charge. Despite the man’s own head injury, Pharr seemed the most capable at handling the situation. Alphonse cursed himself quietly as he settled into the back of the deputy’s squad car. Pharr had the farmer summon them and the other military personnel that were in the area. He had returned to Alphonse with towels borrowed from the farmers wife; one now served as a makeshift bandage against his injured side.

 _It’s okay, Lieutenant Pharr said he could handle it and he can. Head wounds just bleed really profusely, I think he’s okay. We looked into his eyes very carefully and he is alert, he’s not slurring. We are well read on medical symptoms, you know. You should use it more._

“Right,” Alphonse muttered.

“Did you say something Lieutenant Colonel?” the deputy driving back to town said, glancing in his rear view mirror.

“Yes,” Alphonse said, “but not to you, don’t worry about it.”

***

  
The available doctor hadn’t been the best at bedside protocol or congeniality. His side hurt from the stitches and the bindings around his middle were a bit tight. It was out of his hands, but not far from his mind.

He was in the deputy’s office, phone receiver in hand, listening to the clicks of the switchboard as his call was transferred to Colonel Hawkeye’s office. When her voice sounded over the line, just her simple “This is Hawkeye” comforted him from miles away.

“Colonel,” Alphonse said, “We’ve located and… captured the creature we believe is responsible for Lieutenant Lester’s death. We are arranging transportation as we speak; I need to request a special envoy to meet us at the station. I’ll be checking in with our arrival time once we are able to get a suitable train heading back east.”

“Were there any problems, Lieutenant Colonel? You sound out of breath,” the Colonel said, “please tell me what you require for the envoy.”

“There were unforeseen complications, Colonel,” Alphonse said carefully, “the creature in question is a homunculus. I know you know what this means,” his voice dropped a bit, “and I’m surprised to realize I do too. I have read about them, but rarely have I known enough to call one by its _name_.”

“I see,” the Colonel said, “and you’ve captured it? Well done. I will handle things on this end, check in with me with your most precise arrival estimates.”

“Yes sir,” Alphonse said, “is there any chance I can ask you about this matter when I return to headquarters?” He knew it hung unspoken between them, this subtle plea he sometimes offered, hoping against hope this time she’d give in and really talk to him.

“I would like…” she started, but stopped, “Lieutenant Colonel, I strongly suggest you take this matter up with your brother. He could be considered rather an expert in the field.”

“I intend to,” Alphonse said, “I was hoping I could use that promised break to do so.”

“I’ll have your leave papers awaiting your signature the moment you step foot into my office,” the Colonel replied. They hung up then, there was nothing more to say.

***

Pharr and the others returned not long after and were tended by the same doctor, resulting in the same complaints. They took a room in the town and Haartje and Morton were assigned the duty of guarding the five crates that were now stored in the only two cells in the local sheriff’s office. Pharr took them dinner and then brought dinner to Alphonse, but he only picked at it half-heartedly and retreated to one of the twin beds in the rented room to curl up on his good side.

He closed his eyes to the sounds of Pharr also settling in, contemplating just the right combination of words to guilt and brow beat his elder brother into finally giving in to his demands for information regarding the _before_.

Every time he broached the subject, Edward would look pained. Then instantly, legions of guilt driven troops would appear in his eyes and begin erecting an impenetrable wall. Edward’s determination was Alphonse’s greatest enemy; as long as he determined it wasn’t in Alphonse’s best interests to know something, all of Alphonse’s pleads, demands and threats would shatter into pieces against the wall in his brother’s eyes.

 _He is so stubborn you could use him as a battering ram,_ the internal voice supplied, _the Colonel used to call him ‘unstoppable’. I think what he really meant was ‘unreasonable’, but in all the right ways. More or less, I apologize for his obstinate behavior._ Alphonse blinked up at the suit of armor that shuffled from foot to foot in the white spaces of his subconscious.

 _You don’t have to apologize to me,_ Alphonse returned, _I was well versed in his behavior before I ever met him in the flesh._

 _Still,_ the armor went on, _I don’t want you to think he’s rude. That’s just the way he is, it’s not like he can help it. It really came in handy most of the time, I figured putting up with it was fair exchange for being able to take advantage of it when I needed to._

 _Do you know how to get him to talk to me?_ Alphonse asked, _Because I’m running out of ideas. He is so usedto loop holes in conversations I think he smells them coming. He’s too adapt at word traps himself to ever fall for one of mine._

 _He’s really a pain in the ass like that,_ the armor said, putting its hands on its hips, _except when he wants to play dumb, which he is also uncannily good at, you’d almost think he practiced it. Sometimes just jumping on him and holding down worked_ , he offered himself, _but we’re sort of little now, he might be able to get away._

 _I’m not small!_ Alphonse snorted in indignation, _Besides, need we resort to physical confrontation? Edward is brilliant, there must be some way to sway him other than physically threatening him._

 _That is where you’re wrong,_ the armor chuckled, _You’ve fallen into the same trap as the Colonel. Edward has a lot of respect for intelligence, that’s true, but he has more respect for a good ass kicking._ Alphonse cocked an eyebrow at himself.

 _It’s true,_ the armor continued, _I’m not saying you can’t talk to him or that you shouldn’t, but we’re bashing our heads against a wall here and you know it. What you need to do is bash his head against a wall, physically. If you shock him enough, you can loosen his vocal chords. It worked in the past!_ the armor shook its hands, _I’m not saying you have to really hurt him, just show him you mean business. Brother has this ‘King of the Hill’ mentality, it comes from being short._ The armor made a gesture indicating where the top of Edward’s head might touch on his large frame. _Brother has a great big chip on his shoulder; you have to knock it off. I can help._ It volunteered.

 _Alright,_ Alphonse said, _I’m in, tell me how to take him._

The armor suddenly held out its hands toward Alphonse.

 _Then take me back,_ it said, _I’m lonely in here and I really want to talk to Brother. If you take me back, then you might not have to go through any of this._

Alphonse looked at the proffered hands, then slowly up to the faceplate and its darkened eye sockets. His stomach rolled, his side throbbed. Something shook him at his very core and he started to feel cold.

 _If I do this, (if I give in, if I let go), then what I am might go away. (I am Alphonse, I don’t want to be other than what I am). What I am is not wrong; it’s what I am meant to be. (But not what I was, what is missing. It is what I am, how can I want other than that?)_

He took a step back and then another. The armor did not pursue him, but simply stood with arms outstretched.

 _It’s okay to be scared of the truth,_ it said, _but now you are only doing this to yourself. We were brave once; we really didn’t have a choice. Now that we have a choice, you are rather disappointing._

Alphonse gaped and snorted, insulted. Insulted by whom? Himself? He looked again at the offered hands, but still his balled fists remained at his side. He would not lose himself; he would be in charge, he could handle this. He could use it.

 _You mistake prudence for cowardice; I don’t like to go into things uninformed. If Edward gives us some information, then I might be more inclined to agree with your assessment._ Alphonse said clinically. _So I guess it’s really up to him, but I would like your advice if you’re willing to take an assistant sort of position?_

 _Up to Brother, is it? I’ll be rust by the time he decides to loosen his ass about this,_ the armor grumbled, _If disembodied voice you wish to speak to, and make everyone think you’re insane you want, disembodied voice I’ll be. At least I won’t be sitting around biting my non-existent tongue every time you let a good opportunity to let Brother know he could be a better person go by._

 _A deal then,_ Alphonse said, _to avoid confusion between you and sanity, what should I call you?_ he asked.

 _You can call me Al,_ the armor said, _and I’m glad to be on board._

Alphonse blinked his eyes open for a few moments, but Al told him he should get some sleep. It was going to be in scarce supply in the coming days, what with all that was going on. It was good advice, Alphonse closed his eyes.

***

  
After dinner, they put R.D. on his leash and took him out for a meandering drag. The puppy decided they could just go hang themselves with the offensive leash and since he had to walk on it, he should set the path and agenda. They got to visit many a hedge in various neighbors’ yards this way. At least that was what the walks always started like. At some unspoken point, Roy would pry the leash away from Edward, and in that instant, R.D. would become a most accommodating canine companion. He would be content to trot at one’s side instead of trying to lure one to a murder/suicide pact in the middle of the street.

“You’ve made some sort of deal with the beast,” Edward grumbled, shoving his mitten-covered hands into the pockets of his heavy jacket.

“Not at all, just an understanding of who the higher ranking person is,” the General smiled, breath misting in the cold night air. “With you he can sense the total aversion to authority, but with me he can sense an orderly calmness that comes with discipline.”

“Or you’ve managed to speak dog and totally bullshitted him, as usual,” Edward said, “not that it matters to me.” There wasn’t a lot of fight in his words and he bumped Roy with his shoulder as they walked. Roy snaked an arm across Ed’s shoulders, still so surprised that he tolerated it. It was more newness that Edward had come back with, this ability to let Roy have momentary public signs of affection. He never prolonged them, because he could tell there was still some tension lurking beneath the surface. Edward still had some damnable shyness about it, but the General couldn’t deny it was touching in ways he couldn’t name and so he appreciated every gesture Edward let him get away with. Like now, Edward only half snorted at the affectionate nuzzle he got to his temple before tilting his head away.

A nice hot soak to warm up the automail awaited them at home, so Roy decided to hurry them toward it.

***

Ed got out first, which was a little unusual. He dried off and left the towel on the sink, proceeding out of the bathroom before Roy even stood up. Roy puzzled after him but didn’t think much of it, getting out to dry off himself. He heard Ed fussing at R.D. in the bedroom and grinned.

“No you little monster, you aren’t sleeping in here tonight… I mean any night! Roy! Your dog has escaped and is in the bedroom!” Ed called.

Roy came strolling in, grin firmly in place and faltered. Naked, except for an old red coat and braiding his hair over his shoulder, his lover glanced up at him and scowled. The General’s heart bounced up into his nasal passages and then plummeted to the pit of his stomach. His smile leaked off the corner of his mouth to puddle on his shoulder and lust seized him by the nose, pointing hard at Edward. R.D. began a frantic, dog-happy dash between the two men, one who was now smirking in sexually alluring smugness, and the other who was ready to go on his knees and crawl to his lover’s feet.

“Colonel,” Edward grinned, “your tongue is on the floor.” Ed released his braid. He had no tie for it and it began to unravel at the ends immediately, but the top third held and it was enough to suspend belief.

“You’re mistaken, FullMetal,” Roy returned smoothly, “I was merely noting your lack of proper attire,” he advance on Edward, who’s eyes went half-mast. “You might have to be disciplined for it,” Roy said, letting his voice slip lower, “I don’t like sharing what I worked so hard to achieve.”

Edward’s throat worked and he ducked his head a little, looking pleased.

“You’re not playing this game properly,” he said quietly as Roy reached him, running his hands inside the coat and letting them rest on his naked back. “You’re supposed to make some remark about my… height,” his voice faltered a bit as Roy ran his hands slowly down the smoothness of Ed’s skin to rest on his butt, pulling to arch Ed’s hips into his own.

“I’m not interested in playing,” Roy murmured, his lips moving to the corner of Ed’s mouth, “you’re not a child any longer. I don’t have to coddle you into bed, I’m allowed to want you now. I always want you, Edward,” Roy’s voice turned husky. His lips moved to Edward’s and his fingers pressed hard into Ed’s firm backside. Roy kissed him firmly, too.

Completely wooed, Edward opened his mouth to Roy’s, his arms sliding over Roy’s shoulders, his hips arched and moving to Roy’s direction. Roy had it in mind to make this a slow seduction, the movements where deliberate and languid. He used his mouth to press Ed’s head back, and Ed felt no inclination to resist him. Their relationship was always many shades of the same passion, only in varying degrees and even though Edward had found his own hunger for dominance play, it was Roy who was the true master. What Edward forced, Roy cajoled, what Edward demanded, Roy seduced. Edward found he couldn’t be upset about it, especially when he was on the receiving end of such attentions.

Roy’s mouth left his and traveled over his flushed cheek to his ear, then slowly trailed down a neck that Edward arched and tilted for him. The bump and grind was actually a slow slide of flesh and muscle at the moment and Edward was rather breathlessly pleased at the many variations his favorite sexual foreplay had taken. Roy turned them then, backing Edward toward the bed. Edward complied willingly enough, letting himself be lowered onto it, meeting Roy’s heated gaze with a smile. Roy reached behind Ed’s head then, gripping the hood of the coat and pulling it up as Ed’s grinned deepened. Roy was such an old letch, it was endearing.

Edward was old enough now to see he was perhaps too young for the attentions the Colonel had given him when he was fifteen. He could see why it would have been frowned on and why Roy would have been censured for it had the military bothered to concrete its suspicions. Edward now also realized there was no way it was entirely the secret he always thought it to be, but he had no regrets. He had Roy and he was definitely not one to worry about appearances. Roy lifted him somewhat and Edward helpfully scooted up into the pillows, but as Roy started to climb up onto the bed with him, he paused and looked down at the floor. Then Edward had to wait, _(rather impatiently)_ , while R.D. was returned to his nightly pen. Roy eventually came back, closing the door behind him, because the puppy would inevitably escape and charge back into the room.

Now Roy was sitting beside him on bended knees, resting back on his heels. He reached out and trailed fingers over the red coat where it had flipped over Ed’s thigh. He raised his dark eye to Ed’s and grinned.

“You never made love to me in the coat, you know,” Ed said, teasing. “You always had me mostly naked by the time we got to bed.” Roy moved over him then, putting his knees between Ed’s, making the younger man spread his legs.

“You were always so impatient,” the General said, lowering himself between Ed’s spread thighs, “I can’t count the shirt buttons I found all over the bedroom when I finally moved. They were everywhere. You always said you’d fix them, but you never did. You cost me a fortune in button downs, I’ll have you know.” Roy dropped his head and kissed Ed’s stomach, finally settling comfortably.

  
“I liked watching them sail off when I jerked your shirt open,” Ed confessed, “I always though it was funny that you always made that exasperated sound. You made destroying button downs fun, can’t blame me,” Ed grinned merrily.

“Can blame you and do,” the General said, smile curling the edges of his lips anyway. He leaned his nose into damp blonde curls that still smelled of soap and bath water, nosing them. Edward drew a deep breath and sighed; he shifted his ass a little, then settled.

Roy moved his nose slowly through the curls and listened to Ed’s plaintive little sounds as he then trailed it around the base of Ed’s erection. He was feeling lazily playful today and decided Ed was too, even though he might not know it. He pushed his knuckles below Ed’s balls, lifting them as he moved his lips there, ignoring the other more demanding portion of Ed’s anatomy that was waving for attention. Edward grunted in confusion and took a nice inhale as Roy’s tongue moved across the velvet weight of his sack. Dipping under, Roy’s mouth closed over a portion and he began to suck.

This was always an almost strangely weightless sensation for Ed; he was never quite sure what to make of it. Roy often rolled his balls in quick heated strokes as he blew Ed, but rarely did he make them his first stop on the express to Ed’s climax. Ed’s shifts and soft, half gasps of uncertainty were probably one of the reasons Roy would always linger in this particular task longer than he did most.

A dark eye met questioning gold ones and a single dark brow lifted as Ed groaned both in arousal and resignation. Roy was after expressions and he was never specific about what he wanted, so he would work Ed slowly, this way and that, until he saw what he sought. Near the end, Ed would always get shrill and demanding, asking Roy what he wanted so he could gladly give it to him. But no, the older alchemist was exacting in extracting his own pleasure and Ed knew he was in for another night of pleading for release. It excited him miserably, but he’d never let the bastard know that.

Roy kept his eye trained upward, watching Ed watch him with heat and trepidation in his gaze. He raised his flesh hand then, tucking knuckles between his lips and gently biting down as his brow furrowed in Roy’s direction. It was grossly unfair that Edward could bite _himself_. Roy had thought of bringing the subject up for debate and new voting, but right now, with a very delicate portion of Edward’s nether regions in his mouth, would probably not be a good time; it would not likely gain him the moral majority for the new amendment to sex to be passed. He pressed Edward to the roof of his mouth, stroking back and forth with the tip of his tongue vigorously and Edward whimpered around his knuckles, wiggling his butt into the sheets and arching a bit in supplication. His eyes asked if any of this was what Roy was looking for, and if it was, could Roy now just get on with it please?

Roy let his gaze shift away and Edward made an apologetic pleading sound as he turned his flesh foot and stroked Roy’s hip with his toes, looking to stay in his good graces. Roy tolerated the touch, letting his fingers trail over to the inside of Ed’s thigh to stroke there a little. He enjoyed feeling of the muscles jumping under his fingertips and watched the blonde struggle with his ticklish nature. He decided he really wished to see all the adorable Ed enticement measures he could manage to wring out of him tonight, and to do that was to remove himself from the source of the greatest pleasures, making Edward work to get him to return there. He opened his mouth and released him, moving up onto his hands, but he couldn’t quite help from running the flat of his tongue up the thick vein on the underside of Ed’s cock before he crawled slowly up Ed’s body. Ed made a despairing whimper and gave Roy a very beautiful pout.

When Roy put his hands on either side of Ed’s chest, the coat was pushed down and the already tight cloth on his shoulders strained more, effectively pinning the younger alchemist’s arms. It had slipped down on the automail side, however and revealed the dull shine of the metal shoulder. Roy bent his lips to it, pressing them to the cool metal, causing Edward’s breathing to deepen predictably. It always did when Roy treated the automail as flesh and Roy made a point of doing it when they were in bed together, intent on romance and sex. Edward was just now finding that he was pinned with his own coat, and grunted with the effort to try and slip free of his red straightjacket.

All Roy had to do was lean his weight into his arms a little, which he did. Edward looked up at him, surprised and scowling.

“I can’t touch you if you keep me pinned,” the blonde growled, “come on, let me take the coat off,” he coaxed, realizing growling wasn’t likely to get him what he wanted, “don’t you want me to touch you?” he purred.

Roy was giving him a rather glassy look. It meant lust might be taking over and that was good. Roy getting all lust crazed could lead to multiple orgasms, which was great, but sometimes it led to requests of dubious nature. Edward stopped struggling for the moment, wet his lips and tried to shake his hair loose over his shoulders from the last of the braid. He worked hard on the innocent look and tried to lean up and touch noses with Roy, something that always seemed to turn the older alchemist into goo.

“Let me tie you up,” Roy suddenly husked, “just try it once. You never let me before, but I think you know by now you can trust me. Let me tie you up, Ed,” he lowered his lips toward the other’s stunned expression, “I promise to make it good.”

 

**

 

 _If you’re not going to indulge me, then you must not want me very much. Let’s just end this now; it’s a farce at best. I think I like women too much. You look like a woman sometimes with all this hair; that must have been the attraction. Why would I want you to touch me with that dead hand anyway?_

No. This was not then, and not there. This was now, with Roy, home.

 _I should just leave you like that for Greta to find when she comes to wake you for breakfast in the morning. Then they could all see what a pervert you really are, wanting another man’s touch. I should be disgusted, but I feel sorry for you. You should be grateful, no one likes a cripple._

Roy’s lips moved on his, warm and inviting, giving and offering. He only asked for Ed’s love in return.

 _I think this will be the last time, I just don’t find you all that appealing._

Roy’s lips moved to his cheek and his eyebrows, and when Ed closed his eyes, his eyelids.

“Let’s just try it,” Roy whispered, “I’ll let you have a word and I promise to stop if you say it,” he coaxed.

Roy loved him. He could help take those times away, even if he did it unknowingly.

“Yes,” Ed replied, soft and shaky, “I’ll let you try it.” He opened his eyes and gave a half smile when Roy’s kisses on his face got a little excited.

***

“This tie is ugly as hell,” Ed said, concentrating on the piece of fabric he held in his flesh hand, studiously ignoring what Roy was doing with his automail hand.

“It was a gift, I never wore it,” the General said defensively. “I do have some taste.”

“No, you have a uniform you consider a ‘one suit fits all occasions’,” Ed replied dryly. “Sometimes it’s a wonder you don’t wear it to bed. Wait, you have tried to wear it to bed.”

“Yes, you didn’t like it,” Roy reached over and took hold of the tie in Ed’s hand, giving it a tug. Ed didn’t release it immediately: he looked sidelong at Roy. Roy didn’t force the issue, but didn’t let go of the tie either. Instead, he leaned over and kissed Ed, running his free hand into the blonde hair on top of Ed’s head. After a few moments, he pulled up, watched Ed’s eyes study his face anxiously for a moment, then felt Ed’s grip on the tie loosen. Roy wrapped the large end around Ed’s wrist, working the knot to be tight but not biting. Ed watched him do it, fingers curled. Then Roy stretched up, pulling Ed’s hand above his head. Roy pressed the narrow end of the tie between the mattress and headboard, and threaded it behind its central support, looping it over and tying it off.

The moment he pulled back, Ed tested them, pulling on both his captured wrists and licking his lips, tensing all over for a moment before he let go. He almost looked like he would melt into the mattress and he took several deep breaths. Roy moved his hand down Ed’s bound, flesh arm and over his shoulder, onto his chest. He raised his eyebrow to the younger man’s eyes as they watched Roy intently.

“Don’t think I don’t appreciate what this is costing you,” Roy said softly. “If you want to stop right now, I would certainly understand,” he smiled and ran a fingertip down Ed’s nose, tapping the end.

Ed snorted and gave a half grin, shaking his head on the pillow.

“Hell no, we’ve gotten this far, might as well see what its like,” he shrugged as much as the position would let him. “You have this way of making the weirdest shit good and when I let you have your way, you get all mushy on me and the sex is better.” Ed laughed at Roy’s scowl. “Damn Roy, it’s always good! You sure like to fish for compliments.”

Roy raised his finger, just one, and half turned, lowering it over Ed’s bare stomach.

“Oh, OH NO! You bastard, you wouldn’t dare!” Ed yanked hard on his wrists and jerked his knees up, trying to roll on his side and curl up. He yelped and scowled as he was easily subdued and uncurled, unable to fend his intent lover off without the use of his hands. “NO ROY,” he shrieked, “DAMN YOU!”

Roy stuck his finger in Ed’s navel and the blonde howled with helpless laughter.

***

“I was wondering… I was passing by…” Havoc ran a hand over his face and paced back and forth in front of the park bench where his imaginary intended target sat.

“Gibson said you might be here,” he said to the empty bench, “I was passing by and thought I’d stop in to say hi and see how you were doing,” he continued and smiled, then scowled, turned and sat on the bench he’d been trying to woo for the last half hour.

“Sucks, doesn’t it?” he said to the bench, it didn’t disagree. His steady climb up the ladder of military rank had also shown a marked climb in his ability to date women. That is, until he’d met Sarah. She was bright, sassy and independent to the point of painfulness. She always had a smile for him, always made conversation with him and always whisked away to wait on her other customers no matter how much charm he tried to ooze.

He tried for a moment to think what the General might do. He hadn’t fallen back on this tactic in quite some time and it was in fact the Colonel he tried to think about because he knew what the General would do. The General would give Ed an arched eyebrow, a snort and complain about him hogging the bed covers. The General was so _married_. Ed had just ruined him.

“Just go in there, get a table in her section and do what you always do, only this time actually ask her out,” he told himself, “the worst she could do is say no, and you’ve lived through that before. Okay, here we go.” He continued to sit and brood, wondering idly what Breda was doing and what bar he was doing it in. He laid his head back on the hard bench and fished for the cigarettes in his uniform jacket pocket, noticing someone else coming down the walk out of the corner of his eye. Their shadow fell across him from the streetlamp behind them and they stopped. He lifted his head, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, and regarded the object of the recent solicitous affections he made toward the bench.

“Well hey, Lieutenant,” the waitress of his dreams said, “fancy meeting you here. What are you doing out here in the park, did you get kicked out or something?” She grinned and sat down beside him. She had on the dress she always wore in the restaurant with a sweater thrown over it, carrying her apron over her arm.

Well this must be fate, plain and simple. He was feeling reckless now, because he’d psyched himself up by coming onto the bench that was now supporting his butt.

“I was actually out here trying to figure out how to ask you on a date,” Havoc said bluntly, “because all my flirting with you at the restaurant doesn’t seem to be working.”

“That’s because I’m at work and I haven’t got time for subtle,” she said, pulling her feet up on the bench and wrapping her arms around her knees, “If you want to go out, that’s great. Give me a drag off your cigarette since we’re dating,” she grinned.

Havoc blinked at her for a moment before slowly plucking it from his slack lips and handing it over.

***

Alphonse didn’t look forward to the train ride, especially since he was going to spend it in a boxcar with five crates and three nervous soldiers. The stitches in his side reminded him sharply of their presence as he lowered himself to sit on a bag of grain also riding along in the same boxcar.

The crates were sedate again. At some point last night, one of them had started rocking around, which caused the two soldiers guarding them to call his room every five minutes. This finally caused Alphonse to get up, walk across the street to the sheriff’s office and spend the rest of his night on a bench in front of the cells.

 _What do you think they will do with him?_ Al asked as they both watched the crate that Alphonse thought contained the leg bounce and rock.

 _I don’t know,_ Alphonse replied, _But once I hand him over to Parkerson, it’s out of my hands. He might try to kiss me for this one, so be ready to defend my lips._

 _Don’t worry,_ Al replied, _the only Elric who likes for boys to kiss him already has one._

 _That’s a bittersweet relief since it’s my Pirate he wants to kiss him,_ Alphonse returned glumly.

 _I think they’re good together. They always look so happy, you should be glad they both found someone to be with,_ Al said.

 _I didn’t say I wasn’t happy for them,_ Alphonse snorted and slumped on the bag of grain.

 _Well, if you think about it, it’s perfect,_ Al said, _because anyone else they paired up with would probably kill them._

Alphonse nodded once; he felt that, sadly enough, he had to agree.

***

  
“I… can’t breath!” Edward begged, “I fuckin’ hate you,” he panted, “Let me go, you bastard!” he mock demanded, but he hadn’t used the safe word.

Roy moved to his left side ribs, poised his lips for the same feather light kisses he’d just given the right side. Edward whined, high and frantic, trying to get a knee under Roy to shove him off.

“I’m just so hurt to hear you say you hate me,” the General said, not hurt at all, “you’re such a spiteful little beast.”

“I’m not little,” the blonde wailed then shrieked when the lips touched his skin. He yanked the headboard back and forth, trying to burrow a tunnel into the mattress with his ass and pounded his heels into the sheets when that didn’t work.

Roy counted down his ribs slowly, holding him by his hips and lingering over the last one a moment or two longer than the others. He pushed up and looked into a flushed and sweating face, which gave him a beautiful scowl and then a pout.

“You just wanted to do this so you could tickle me,” Edward accused, “and that’s not sexy! This is pointless! Let me go,” he bared his teeth.

“I’m sensitizing you,” Roy informed him. “You’re responsive now, so now when I do something like this,” Roy leaned down and instead of seeking to tickle, he ran his tongue down the line of Ed’s hip toward his crotch. The blonde’s eyes widened as he gasped and arched up as much as he could with Roy holding down his hips. “You’ll try to crawl out of your skin,” the General simpered.

“I really fuckin’ hate you,” Edward said when he could breath again, “and if I could get my hands on you, I’d show you what I thought of your sensitizing,” he threatened.

“Should I start tonguing your navel now?” the General asked drolly.

“NO, I didn’t mean it,” Ed cried, “I’m sorry; please ignore everything I say between now and the time you let me cum! I deserve verbal amnesty because you’re torturing me!”

The General seemed to mull that over and Ed rubbed the sides of the General’s legs with his feet, trying to tilt the vote in his favor.

“Your automail is cold,” the General said, pushing up and turning to slide off the bed.

“Ah! I’m sorry! You can blow on it to warm it up! Where are you going?!” Ed tried to flail unsuccessfully. Roy walked calmly over to the dresser and pulled open one of the middle drawers, _(since the dresser was a highboy, Ed got all the middle ones)_ and pulled out Ed’s leg sock. He came back over and sat down on the side of the bed. Ed looked relieved, smiled and helpfully held up his automail leg for Roy to slide the sock over, then lowered it so Roy could tie the tie at the top. He wiggled and grinned when Roy got back on the bed and took up his position between Ed’s spread legs, but Roy put his elbows on the bed and propped his chin in them, regarding his lover thoughtfully.

“I feel like I’m wasting an opportunity here,” the General said.

“What do you mean,” Ed wheedled and returned to running his feet up and down the sides of Roy’s legs, “You got me where you want me, all helpless and at your mercy. Except for the tickling part, it’s been pretty good so far.”

“It’s not something I can put my finger on,” the General un-propped his chin and folded his arms, leaning over and nosing Edward’s erection. “It’s just, I should feel more creative in this moment.”

“Oh?” Ed said shakily, arching slightly and trying to entice some mouth action with the nosing. “What did you have in mind? I’m pretty sure if you talked me into this, you could talk me into other things.”

“That’s just it,” the General said, “I should be thinking of other things. But what I’m really thinking of is putting my mouth all over your cock and listening to you sob my name. That’s something I really enjoy by the way,” the General open-mouthed Ed’s erection and Ed, willing to accommodate, gasped his name.

But the General lifted his head again. Ed whined and hooked his feet behind the General’s butt cheeks, trying to slide him up further on the bed. The General inched upwards a bit to mollify him and Edward tried as best he could to knead sexily on the General’s ass with his toes.

“See, I think I’m falling into a rut the way I once accused you of doing,” the General shook his finger, “we’re going to have to figure out how to broaden our horizons,” Edward was arching his hips and the General lifted his eyebrow, then obliged him for a moment by mouthing him some more, but never with any real satisfaction or suction. Edward tried gasping his name again and adding a plea to it, but the General merely lifted one hand and used a finger to idly stroke back and forth over Ed’s balls. The blonde ground his teeth and pounded his flesh ankle into the bed for a moment, struggling with his obscenities and trying to play nice.

“That’s great,” Ed managed behind his snarl, “and I’d like to do those things too, but not now, this is fine for now,” Ed bounced his butt on the bed trying to get Roy’s attention on his crotch. When Roy glanced down, Ed arched again.

“I always wondered what you’d look like in a mini-skirt,” the General said, “but then I’d picture you in one and all I could do was snicker,” the General pressed his lips against Ed’s balls, his nose pressed to the base of Ed’s erection and he sighed. “However the though of you in that leather you used to wear is starting to have appeal,” he said, muffled into Ed’s crotch.

Edward’s eyes almost crossed. If he arched up now, he was more likely to push Roy’s face away, so he tried to sink into the mattress instead. Roy seemed to appreciate the gesture and he ‘raspberried’ gently against Edward’s balls. The blonde moaned lowly and sucked on his bottom lip briefly.

“Ok,” Ed gasped, “what is it you really want, demon? Just tell me already,” he turned his head to the side and closed his eyes. “I can take it; just tell me what it is you really want.”

The General pushed up and Edward whimpered as he turned and slid off the bed again. Edward didn’t even open his eyes, he just lay there, feeling the head of his erection slide on his lower stomach with every breath he took. He wasn’t to the downright begging point, but he had no doubt Roy intended to get him there. He listened to his lover rummage in the closet again and then heard him approach the bed. He opened his eyes when something wrapped around his ankle and he lifted his head to watch as Roy secured his first ankle to the footboard. He tugged on it and snorted as Roy worked on the automail ankle.

“More ugly ties,” he muttered, letting his head flop back in the pillows. He’d done it, Roy had done it. He’d completely diffused all Ed’s early reservations, all the tension, it was all gone. Why did Ed ever doubt the man? Roy climbed back up between Ed’s legs, reached down and flipped the coat tails over Ed’s naked thighs, smiling to himself and sighing.

“Wish I had a camera,” the General said wistfully. “I’d have the start of a nice rainy day album if I did.” Roy then picked up yet another tie he’d laid on the bedside.

“How many of these things do you have?” Ed said. He tried to push his head through the pillow as Roy leaned over him and his intent became clear.

“I had a lot of girlfriends,” the General said, pouncing with the tie and fixing it over Ed’s eyes, “and a lot of them were unimaginative. I must have hung onto them all these years out of premonition.”

Edward had ceased to struggle, letting the General turn his world black.

“I actually believe that,” the blindfolded blonde said wryly, “your second sight was always just short of damn spooky when I was on a mission.”

“That wasn’t second sight,” the General laughed, “that was just good old fashioned manipulation.”

“You are a fucking dead man when I get loose,” his lover growled.

***

R.D. howled out in the hallway, howling right along with the other howling thing in the house. He started when the floor beneath him seemed to jump, but his canine mind didn’t comprehend it was from a bed frame threatening to break through the hardwood.

“FUCKIN’ NO! PUT YOUR MOUTH BACK DOWN THERE,” something screeched from in the room and R.D. backed up a bit from the door, tilting his head at it and wagging his tail just once.

“Give me incentive,” another voice growled, husky and laughing. R.D. did one joyous circle and ran up to the door, scratching it once.

“I’ll incentive you into next week, you fucking fucker fucking bastard goddamn tease!” the other voice raged again, “it will be fucking never again I let you do this to me you damn… OOOOOOOoooooooooOOOOOOOOOO…” the voice trailed off.

There were several moments of heaving breathing and wet noises, then more words, garbled and disjointed. The higher the voice rose in pitch, the more R.D. raised his ears until he was howling along again to the painful cry of one of his snack-givers.

“I just…” the voice that had been howling finally managed afterwards, scratchy and raw, “I just fuckin’ love you,” it finished out.

“I know,” the other voice said, smugly, “and I think you managed to hit the ceiling, that’s some record,” it said, impressed.

R.D. piddled right outside the door and then trotted away.

***

Alphonse reported in from their first stop over and gave his revised time of arrival. The boxcar was an unnerving place to be, so he was letting the two men from the information department take turns riding in the passenger cars for breaks. He extended the offer to Pharr, but the man only shook his head and stayed by Alphonse’s side. Pharr even checked Alphonse’s bandages from time to time and had tried to make a more comfortable place for the boy to sit.

When they resumed their journey after a dinner of station house buns, Pharr moved closer and sat by Alphonse’s side.

“How do you know what this thing is?” Pharr asked, looking at the boy, “I’ve never even heard of a homunculus.”

“I’ve faced them before,” Alphonse said, and Al played the images of Lust and Gluttony across his mind, the two monsters from his dreams, “I’ve fought them before,” he finished quietly.

“I didn’t know. Is it classified? You’ve never mentioned it,” Pharr said.

“It’s news to me too,” Alphonse said, then ignored the Lieutenant’s questioning look and was grateful when the man pressed him no further.

***

Two weeks of detention would probably add up like five years in prison with hard labor to Daniel Stanton’s reckoning, but he should be grateful; at least that is what he was told. In the inquiry, the Professor had argued for them. He proposed making them his slaves as punishment, instead of giving them a mere suspension; their parents would be too lenient with them.

At least the other three looked just as miserable. Seth wasn’t speaking to any of them and Daniel did feel a little guilty about it, especially when Seth didn’t squeal like they all thought he would. It was odd though, when the other adults demanded the name of the senior who had given them the array, _(and they truly WOULD be dead if they told that)_ , the Professor had not pressed. He either didn’t seem to think that was important, or he understood the unspoken law of the playground. Either way, that chalked up to a good thing, because the other adults finally gave up and Daniel wasn’t sure he would have been able to keep the information from the Professor.

They all sat with toothbrushes, rags and turpentine, scrubbing each of the wooden one-pieced desks free of all gum, scuff and pen marks. After that, it was promised they’d do the entire classroom floor, followed by painting the walls and possibly planting a flower garden. The Professor said he’d get more creative as the days wore on and they had all shuddered because they knew how creative the Professor could be.

It was the second day of the damnable torture and his ass was sore from sitting on the hard floor. They’d been at it almost two hours now and the fumes were making him a little dizzy, even though they had all the windows open. The Professor had left the room briefly, but they knew oh so much better than to attempt to slow down or stand up and stretch, because somehow he’d know they’d done it when he got back. He always seemed to know everything.

He did come back as if the mere thought of him had summoned him, carrying a bag and some juice bottles. He sat them on the big desk and looked toward his motley crew.

“Okay you guys, come take a little break,” he said in an almost friendly way. They could hardly believe their luck as they abandoned their task to all troop as a dutiful little unit to the Professor’s desk. He indicated for them to pull up some of the cleaned desks to sit in, and they did. He let them all have a sandwich and a bottle of juice and he sat behind his big desk watching them while they ate.

“What you did was incredibly dangerous,” he suddenly said, and they all turned their eyes on him. Even Duffy lowered his sandwich from his mouth.

“Arrays not of your own making can be very dangerous things; even arrays of your making can be dangerous. This is something you need to realize if I’m going to let you continue to be in this class,” he wasn’t looking at them, he was looking at the top of his desk. “Already I know of three students whose parents are seeking to transfer them out.” The Professor sounded upset by this and the boys all shuffled in their chairs, feeling their own guilt rise.

“Perhaps that doesn’t seem so bad, but I know that the three boys don’t want to be transferred out and there isn’t much I can say about it. I appreciate the lot of you confessing as well, you saved me an inquiry and quite possibly my job, but you’ve botched my reputation,” the Professor laughed a little, “I finally see what he meant all those years.”

He got up then, went around to the front of his desk and sat on the edge of it. He leaned down and caught the cuff of his left pant leg and slowly began working it up to just past his low boots. The boys’ eyes widened: they never knew he had a metal leg as well. How cool was that, the Professor was literally half metal.

He undid his cuff then, slid up his sleeve, pulled off his glove and held his arm out before him. He flexed the fingers and they clinked as he looked at them one by one.

“What do you think of this?” he asked them, looking very serious.

Daniel spoke up first because he always did. “I think it’s really cool,” he said, “and dangerous looking. I bet you used it a lot when you were a state alchemist. I bet you beat a lot of bad guys with it.”

The other three nodded general agreement, they all muttered after Daniel’s lead about how cool it was and how useful it must have been to the Professor when he was out getting famous.

“Well, I appreciate that,” he said, “but the truth of the matter is it hurts me right now, because it’s so wet and cold,” he reached up to rub his shoulder. “My joints are constantly weakened by its weight, it generates no heat of its own and at night I have to wrap it up so it won’t touch my side and startle me awake. It makes writing very difficult and when I hug people, like my younger brother? I have to be careful not to snag his hair or his clothes and I don’t like it touching his bare skin because it’s cold.” The Professor drummed his metal fingers against the heel of his metal hand making a clanging noise as they boys before him digested this.

“The worst thing is if I damage it, like all these scratches on the back,” the flipped it over to let them see the scuffs the steel wool had left, “when my mechanic sees it, she tries to beat me to death with a large wrench.” The boys all winced in sympathy. “I know it looks cool and it may be useful, but it’s not really something you want to live with, you can take my word on this.” There was more silent shuffling from the quartet.

“I’m going to tell you a secret, because it’s just us guys and you proved to me you can keep one by not telling us who the senior was that gave you the array. That’s alright,” the Professor held up his hand to stall the stuttered apologies that might have followed, “he’ll slip up sometime and we’ll find out who he is. I don’t necessarily think he’ll be doing it again anytime soon. You four getting caught might scare him straight on the matter.” The Professor went silent for a few moments and they all waited tensely, wondering what secret he was going to impart to them that was so important they couldn’t tell.

“I did this to myself,” the Professor said softly, “when I was ten, with an array I made myself. I almost killed my little brother as well,” he added, his eyes going distant and troubled, “so you see why it’s so important to me that I impress on you what you did is so dangerous it can’t be repeated. If I get one whiff of anything like this again, you will not only be taken out of my class, I will see you expelled from the Academy.” The Professor’s voice was as steel as his hand and they all swallowed. “Because I now know what my own teacher felt as well, and it’s not a good feeling. I sincerely don’t wish anything like this on anyone, not even an enemy. I feel that strongly about it,” the Professor finished.

“Su… sorry Professor,” Daniel stammered then, “we didn’t think…”

“No, you didn’t,” the Professor interrupted him, “but now you will.”

Daniel nodded, the other boys added soft apologies too and the Professor smiled a little, if sadly.

“So tomorrow,” the Professor said, “you’re going to clean the floor with the toothbrushes.” He folded his arms.

He got no complaints. Not because he had intimidated them, but because he had enlightened them.

***

When Alphonse reported in, he was ordered to the infirmary and made no protest. He spent the night there in the comfort of painkillers and clean bandages.

The Colonel came to him the next morning, pulling a chair to his bedside before he could get up to get one for her. She ordered him to eat his breakfast and give his report, but she sat beside him as he did so and declined politely his offer to share his fruit cup with her.

 _I’ve really missed her,_ Al said, _She’s a Colonel now, no one deserves it more. She should be a General._

 _She will be,_ Alphonse returned, _It’s only a matter of time. So we’ve always liked her?_ he asked.

 _Always, she’s an incredible person. She’s so intelligent and she always gave really good advice. She always nudged me in the right direction even when she couldn’t outright tell me. She really did a lot for us, I’m very grateful to her._

Alphonse nodded, then caught the Colonel watching him do it and blushed. He pushed his breakfast tray aside and turned his full attention on her. She met his gaze with her unwavering brown one and asked directly, as she always did.

“Tell me everything that happened,” she said, “start with the crates you delivered to Parkerson yesterday.”

“It’s the homunculus Wrath, in pieces,” Alphonse said, “you can’t kill a homunculus outright and we have none of his mortal remains to nullify him. He’ll have to be kept in pieces and in neutral containment that he can’t absorb for weaponry. My suggestion to Parkerson was deep freeze containment, if it can be done. It will suspend him and might be kinder.” Alphonse clasped his hands together in his lap and looked at them, dropping his gaze from hers.

“Are you sure this is what killed Lester?” she asked.

Alphonse nodded. “I don’t think we’ll get any sort of confession however, and we’d have to… reattach its head if we did, but Lester had things in his notes that indicated Wrath was what he was looking for,” Alphonse bit his lip at the twinge the creature’s name brought. It had a _name_ , and he knew it, knowing its name denied him a distance he wanted to keep. Knowing its name and that it was sentient, if not human, made his suggestions to its imprisonment horrific, but really, what else could they do?

“Why do you call it Wrath?” the Colonel said neutrally and Alphonse sighed, lifting his eyes again.

“Because I know it; that is its name. I’ve met it before, fought it before, with Brother,” he turned to look at her, “and I did it in armor.”

She said nothing, merely nodded her head once and stood. “When the doctor gives you leave, you may discharge yourself from the infirmary,” she said, “as we discussed, I am granting you a two week leave once you’re been cleared here. Go home and sort this out with Edward,” she said, “I expect you back for the short time I’ll have you before your retirement.”

Alphonse saluted her and she saluted back.

“Thank you for coming back in one piece,” the Colonel said.

 _You’re in love with her,_ Al stated needlessly.

“Yes sir,” Alphonse said softly, then watched her walk out the door.


	6. Chapter 6

General Mustang looked up from his desk as the door to his office opened. He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as he stood to return the salute of Lieutenant Colonel Elric. The boy smiled tiredly at him and set his suitcase on the floor beside him.

“Sorry I didn’t call before hand, sir,” Alphonse said, “I thought I’d surprise the both of you, if that’s all right.”

“Always a pleasure to be surprised in this fashion,” the General returned. “It’s good to see you, how long is Hawkeye letting you grace our presence?”

Alphonse grinned then and walked forward to the desk, taking the General’s extended hand and giving it a shake, then sitting in the chair the man’s hand indicated when he released it.

“I’ve a two week leave,” Alphonse said, “There are some things I need to take care of while I’m here.”

 _He really does look like a Pirate,_ Al chortled.

“Your brother is in class and its Thursday, his students have a club meeting, so he’ll be a little late,” the General said taking his own seat. “But that’s fortuitous because we always have dinner in town on Thursday before heading home. It can be a welcome home dinner now as well. You don’t mind hanging about the office for a while, do you?”

“Not at all,” Alphonse said, “as a matter of fact, I could use the reading time. There are a few files I want to go over to be well armed when I pin down Edward.”

“Pin down Edward?” the General asked, eyebrow lifting.

“Yes,” Alphonse said, “I know you aren’t at liberty to discuss things with me until you’ve cleared it with him,” there was a bit of resentment in the tone, “but some things happened on my last mission and he is giving me some answers,” Alphonse sighed. “I really don’t want to drag you into the middle of it, Pirate,” he said and gave the General a small smile. “You’ve done so much for me already. Maybe it’s better if I stay here in the city and have Edward meet up with me.”

“Nonsense,” the General huffed, “you’ll come home with us where you belong and I’ll just keep my nose out of it… as much as I can,” He smiled at the young man across the desk from him. “But no absolute guarantees, you understand. I can’t help but be affected when the two of you are involved.”

It made Alphonse warm the way he said it and Al nodded his head in a fond way.

 _The Colonel is so nosy,_ Al said, _and it really used to make brother mad, but I always thought it was nice to have an adult who looked after us. Even if brother didn’t think we needed one._

Alphonse rubbed the side of his nose and looked aside as Al chatted away in his cranium. He noticed the Pirate looking at him, the side of his mouth drawn down just a bit.

 _But sometimes he was too nosy,_ Al conceded, _Has he put on weight?_

The Pirates mouth drew down even further when Alphonse suddenly laughed and covered his mouth with his hand.

***

The ditto machine was his sworn enemy.

Edward stood eyeing it warily, slowly peeling his gloves off. Not that this would do any good, or in fact even save them. Whenever he had to use the ditto machine, his gloves were a necessary sacrifice. He eyed it. If only he knew more about the printing world. Alchemy to make duplicates was a tricky business. Al had been able to do it; he’d once watched his younger brother copy a book. The difference between his and Al’s alchemy had always been a balance of delicate control. Edward had control, he had gushing torrents of it. He could will an alchemic reaction into whatever piston of force it needed to be and shape it to the blueprint in his mind in a moment’s given notice as long as the blueprint hinged on engineering and mathematics and mass ratios. Alphonse on the other hand could be more precise and fine-tuned: smaller reactions neatly housed within the walls of their array, nothing over taxing its borders, minute details of logic and theory evolved into matter. Edward could still out sculpt his younger sibling however, but only through the vastness of his own imagination. Al was order and he was chaos, it was the reason they worked so well together.

It was really the ink the damn thing used that was out to get him. No matter what he tried, it would leap from the cylinder as if attracted by magnetism to his automail hand. No amount of scrubbing would clean it, and when he put his glove back on, it would seep through and stains his gloves. There was no stopping it, no preventing it, no reasoning with it. He would just grit his teeth and get it over with.

Twenty-five copies and one pair of ruined gloves later, he stomped back to his classroom and threw himself behind his desk. The only thing that kept him from brooding about having to spend extra hours at the Academy after his classes were over for the day, was the thought of getting to go to dinner with the General in his uniform. The uniform was such a nice suck-up tool; Edward enjoyed watching hostesses fall all over themselves for something they couldn’t have.

***

Alphonse was sitting at the big table with Fuery and Breda. He was really trying to read, but Al kept pestering him for information on the two since he hadn’t seen them in a while. Alphonse irritably told him that he _had_ seen them, and not so long ago. Finally, just so Al would give him some peace and quiet, he looked over to Fuery who noticed and smiled.

“So, how many more books where there in the Duke Chantal series after the whole… it’s been what? Seven years?” Alphonse asked casually.

“Oh,” Fuery said and blinked in surprise. Since Alphonse had come back, he’d never asked about the novels once. He saw the General studying them intensely, but he said nothing.

“There were three more books,” Fuery said, “and then a sequel series about his son.”

“Really?” Alphonse said, sitting up straighter, “Who was the mother? Please tell me it wasn’t Clarrisa.”

“No,” Fuery said and flattened his mouth, “it was a last minute introduction character that I thought was really bad plotting, but the sequel wasn’t all that bad.”

“Do you think I could borrow them?” Alphonse suddenly broke his Hawkeye-like office protocol and leaned forward on the table eagerly, grinning.

“Sure,” Fuery said, “I’ll send them home with the General for you tomorrow,” he was glad to have his reading companion suddenly appear back at his side.

“Great,” Alphonse said in a very un-Alphonse like way, “All this reading about brother is just plain dull.” But having said it, he dropped his gaze back down to his piles of files and resumed.

When Fuery looked to the General again, the man looked concerned, but shook his head and went back to his work. So, Fuery followed suit.

***

“Meeting is called to order,” Todd Evans said, the elected speaker of the group, “today’s agenda includes Alchemists we want to acknowledge, the club fees debate and who’s mom is going to make stuff for the next meeting.”

At his desk, Ed just shook his head and smiled, taking the opportunity to get a jump on grading papers. It really was unfair to ask Roy to help him every time.

The club president, who happened to be Daniel, stood up then and called for the first Alchemist nominee for the SoAB hall of fame. Several hands shot into the air, but he picked Seth first _(because he knew who Seth’s hero was)_ and glanced back toward the big desk. The Professor always pretended disinterest, but Daniel knew he listened to every word.

“I nominate the Professor!” Seth said excitably and predictably, “Because he was the FullMetal Alchemist, the youngest state sanctioned Alchemist ever!” Seth shuffled through his papers and clippings. “My older brother Stephen kept a scrap book of newspaper articles and he let me bring them,” Seth continued and held an article aloft, “this is when he caught Barry the Chopper when he was thirteen years old!” Seth grinned merrily. He held up another article. “This one is about when he stopped a runaway train and this one is about when he helped that one town make a new dam… oh and this one isn’t so good, it says he’s a menace.”

The Professor looked up at that bit of information, cocked his eyebrow.

“I brought some of the novels too,” Seth continued on, “Here is The FullMetal Alchemist versus the Lion Chimeras of Zim!” The boys instantly crowded around his desk. “This one is my favorite,” Seth held another battered paperback aloft. “The FullMetal Alchemist versus the Lady Alchemist of Mount Doom!”

“Let me see that,” the Professor said suddenly and Seth, eager to please, jumped up and raced to the big desk, book in hand.

The Professor took the book, scowled at the cover art and flipped it over to read the brief synopsis on the back. He tried hard not to snicker, but he did, and looked at the cover art again.

“This doesn’t even look like me,” he said, “my jaw isn’t that square and my braid was never that long, neither was my coat,” he grinned and started to hand the book back to Seth.

“Could you sign it,” Seth said in a little hero-worshipping voice, “my big brother would really be happy if you did.”

“But I didn’t write it or even live the adventure,” the Professor said smiling, taking in the boy’s blush and clasped hands.

 _I really shouldn’t be eating this attention up. It seems so conceited that I do._

“Alright,” the Professor gave in and scrawled his chicken scratch on the inside of the front cover. Seth took it from his hand with a reverence that should only be reserved for sacred things.

“Thank you Professor,” the boy said with a lip tremble, then turned and scooted back to his desk beaming and receiving some envious looks.

“Okay, we all know the Professor is great,” Daniel broke in, “but before we make his ego unmanageable, who else has a nominee?”

Daniel grinned as the Professor snorted behind him.

“I nominate the Firefly Alchemist,” Gavin Royal said without even raising his hand.

“But she’s not a real Alchemist,” Eric Danvers complained, “she’s only a singer who uses alchemy in her act. The state didn’t give her that name, she chose it for herself.”

“If the Professor was out being a state alchemist when he was thirteen,” Duffy suddenly broke in, “then when did he go to school?”

The Firefly Alchemist was abandoned for the moment and several pairs of curious eyes turned on the big desk and the Professor hmmm and hawed a little.

“The Military provided my schooling,” the Professor offered, “just like they are doing for you.”

“You went to the Academy?” Richard Timbers asked, “But there aren’t any plaques about you anywhere. Other famous Alchemists who went to the Academy have plaques!”

Now they were all incensed on the Professor’s behalf and looked like they might be planning a small riot.

“No, I didn’t go to the Academy,” the Professor said to forestall the mass swarm out the door and the march down the hall to the Dean’s office, “I just… learned from the school of hard knocks,” he gave a sheepish grin.

“You didn’t have to go to school?” Boyd Harding said in envious disbelief, “So if you become a state alchemist you don’t have to go to school!?”

“No, that’s not true,” the Professor said, grasping around for control of this conversation before it got away from him, “state alchemists have to go to school and get training with another Alchemist,” he pointed out.

“Well then why didn’t you have to go to school, you were a state alchemist,” Daniel said, looking to back the Professor into the ropes. Sure he admired the man, but you couldn’t let good opportunities like this go by.

“He doesn’t have to tell us,” Seth leapt to the Professor’s defense. Duffy punched him lightly in his upper arm. Seth knew better, the rule of the playground is if you could stick it to a teacher, _(no matter how cool they were)_ , you should.

“I’m a prodigy,” the Professor said, nose in air. “I was too smart to be in the Academy and so the state decided I should be a state alchemist.” There, that ought to do it.

“But it looks like they got you in the Academy anyway,” Daniel grinned and wiggled an eyebrow, “does that mean you aren’t a prodigy anymore?”

“You only have another half hour to finish your meeting,” the Professor snapped, “and I’m grading papers, so kindly try not to disturb me.”

Students: 1 Professor: 0

***

Havoc took the phone call in the office adjacent to the General’s. He wasn’t expecting a female voice on the other end of the line and it made him grin so hard he thought his jaw would snap.

“I hope it’s okay calling you here. I know you gave me the number, but I’ve never called the military before,” Sarah said. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“It’s ok,” Havoc said, trying not to bounce around. She called him first, at work!

“About our date,” she continued, “my friend Abby is going to be by herself Saturday night and I want her to come along. You need to hook her up with your tall, gray haired friend.”

Havoc blinked. Hook up her friend with someone else? Double date? But it was the first date! Wait a minute. Tall, gray haired friend…

“You mean Falman?!” Havoc said in a bit of disbelief. He wasn’t sure Falman dated. He wasn’t sure about anything Falman did if he thought about it.

“Yeah,” Sarah said, “I think that’s his name. He’s been in the restaurant with you guys a couple of times. You know, he’s all tall and stiff and looks sort of expressionless?”

“That’s Falman,” Havoc said faintly, “are you sure that’s who she means? Did she meet him before or something?”

“I don’t think so,” Sarah said, “she just saw him sitting with you guys while she was waiting other tables and I guess she just liked him. She says he looks safe and malleable,” Havoc could almost see the girl shrug on the other end, “I’m not here to regulate her tastes, I just want you to hook her up.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Havoc said in a stunned way, “and I’ll let you know.”

“Great!” Sarah said, “We’re counting on you! It will be fun, you’ll see,” her voice grinned at him over the phone. “Okay I have to go now, are you coming by the restaurant tonight? The special is chopped steak.”

“Yeah,” Havoc said, “sure.”

“See you then,” she said merrily, and hung up the phone.

All along, he thought his luck had changed, and it had. It had grown a malicious, practical joking streak.

***

Edward listened to the list of hall of fame nominees read like a listing of contemporary bad literature. Half the Alchemists on it he’d never even heard of and the other half made him cringe. Why yes he was an elitist snob when it came to alchemy and he had every right to be because he could back it the hell up. He shifted in his seat a little; this was none of his business. He was only here to supervise the boys in as far as letting them have after school access to an adequate meeting room and that was all.

“Why don’t you nominate someone, Professor,” Daniel’s voice carried to him, it was an apology for zinging him earlier, he knew.

“I’m not in your club,” he told the boy and gave him a smile.

“But you are really,” Seth piped up, “you’re the reason we started the club.”

“I bet you know all kinds of cool Alchemists,” Bernard Martin said, “tell us one for the list!”

There was a round of ‘please!’ that Edward found hard to ignore. When had this gang of boys gotten such a handhold on him?

“Oh very well, add The Flame Alchemist,” the Professor said, smiling.

Daniel dutifully noted the name down and then said, “Who’s that?”

Edward blinked.

“Oh I know,” Seth jumped in again, “That’s General Mustang! My dad’s boss, he says he’s a pompous ass!”

“General Mustang is an alchemist?” Duffy said, “Since when? My dad says he’s gonna run for Prime Minister if he’d get off his ass already and do it.”

The Professor’s eyes had gotten rather large. Now he seemed to be listening to them rather intently.

“My dad said,” Seth continued, “that he made a bid to run the Academy, but not because he wanted to be the administrative head, he just wanted to lean on the Dean. My dad says it’s a shame because he used to be really kick ass, but then he got all washed up because of the old Fuhrer that disappeared.”

“Was he really kick ass?” Daniel directed to the Professor, who blinked at him and then seemed to snap out of whatever self induced trance he was in.

“Very,” the Professor said, “he was a war hero. The stuff about the old Fuhrer is all just rumor and you shouldn’t put any real stock in it.”

“Hey, you could tell us what really happened,” Daniel suddenly said, looking eager. “You were there!”

 _No, I wasn’t really. I let him go alone._

“No, I wasn’t in on that,” the Professor said, “I had business elsewhere at that time. Besides, that would all be classified and if I did know, I couldn’t tell you.”

 _I do know, but I won’t tell you. There will be no monsters for your dreams if I can help it._

The boys looked a little disappointed, but seemed to accept his explanation.

“It’s time guys,” the Professor said, pulling out his silver pocket watch to double check, “see you in class in the morning.”

They all gathered up their things and filed out, telling him goodbye as they went. He was packing up his own briefcase.

Prime Minister, eh? That was news to him. News he was going to confirm.

***

  
 _Brother!_

Alphonse stood and smiled when Edward came walking into the General’s office. Edward didn’t see him at first, intent on the big desk where the General himself sat smiling, but then General nodded in Alphonse’s direction and Edward looked over, grinning and lighting up like he always did.

“Al,” his big brother said, “why didn’t you call?” Edward dropped his briefcase on the General’s desk and walked over. Alphonse extended his hand like he always did.

 _Hug him!_ Al cried.

 _Don’t worry, we’re about to get squished. He always mauls me when he sees me,_ Alphonse said.

 _No, you hug him first! Look, he’s so happy to see us. How can you not want to hug someone who is always so glad to see you?_ Al demanded.

Alphonse started a little; Edward did always look overjoyed to see him. No matter what, no matter when, his elder brother always had a huge grin for him. He wasn’t sure if it was of his own violation he suddenly moved forward, but he didn’t care because he found he agreed.

Edward made a surprised sound when his younger brother beat him to the rib crushing, but it only lasted a moment before he wrapped his arms around him.

“This is a great surprise,” Edward said next to his ear, “I’m sorry to keep you waiting. My class had a club meeting,” he offered.

“That’s okay, the Pirate told me,” Alphonse said, releasing Edward and stepping back. “He says you guys would take me to dinner,” he grinned.

“Of course,” Edward said, “anywhere you want, just name it. Are you on leave? I thought Hawkeye wanted to work you to death your last few months in her service.”

 _What should I tell him?_ Alphonse asked.

 _Lay low and butter him up first,_ Al said.

“I’ve been really busy, but after this last mission, she told me I needed a break. I asked if I could come and visit you,” Alphonse said.

The grin he got in response to that made him feel guilty. Al felt guilty too.

***

Roy sat and watched the siblings eat. It was one of the few things they did exactly alike. He was glad he had forgone the pasta dish and opted for chicken, because watching the brothers savage their pasta bowls was just this side of frightening. Maybe even a little nauseating.

They were currently scuffling over the last meatball and it plopped onto the tablecloth. Alphonse, the neat freak, made a huffy sound, but Edward dived right in. Never one to let an opening go by, he plucked it off the table with his mouth and his little brother snorted in indignation.

It amazed the General that they didn’t find this behavior embarrassing, and he glanced around giving a couple at the next table over a half smirk and shrug.

“Are you going to have dessert?” the General ventured.

“Yes!” they both half shouted and then looked at each other and grinned. Edward tried to wipe Alphonse’s chin, but Alphonse flailed and snatched the napkin out of Edward’s hand, growling.

“I’m not a child, Edward!” Alphonse wiped his own chin.

 _Whoa, that is some role reversal,_ Al said.

***

  
Roy unlocked the front door, immediately reached for a leash hanging on the wall and bent down to try and snap it to the collar of a black and white blur.

“I’ll check for accidents,” Ed said with resignation as he led Alphonse into the house.

Roy was too occupied at the moment, grunting with frustration as he tried to get his hands on a terrier, but he managed to get the leash on R.D. and steer the puppy out the door, pulling it shut behind him.

Edward took Alphonse’s suitcase from him and grinned at his brother’s half protest as they walked down the hallway to Alphonse’s room. Edward set the suitcase by the closet and then sat down on the edge of Alphonse’s bed while the younger boy peeled of his gloves and shrugged out of his coat.

“How have you been feeling?” Alphonse asked, “Is the weather treating you any better?” He opened his closet and hung up his coat, took out a few hangers and then picked up the suitcase, laying it on the bed next to Edward.

“I’m alright,” Edward said with a smile, watching his little brother unpack and put things in his closet. This was the best part of any visit. With things hanging in the closet, it felt like home to Edward, that Alphonse had finally come to stay. “Roy is such a mother hen about it, it’s not as bad as he makes out.”

 _We haven’t kept our promise,_ Al suddenly said, sadly.

 _Our promise?_ Alphonse returned.

 _Brother still has his automail, we promised to fix it,_ Al said.

“Well, the General has the right to mother hen you, after all,” Alphonse said, worrying the new supplied bit of information, not sure how to offer it. Better to wait. “How is the teaching job going?”

“As well as can be expected,” Edward said, putting his hands behind him and leaning back. “It’s quite an experience to be molding young lives,” he flashed a half maniacal grin, “If find I rather enjoy it. The thought of being able to inflict myself on future generations, even indirectly, has its appeal.”

Alphonse laughed, put the empty suitcase in the bottom of the closet and shut the door.

“Just what the alchemic world needs, more of the Elric style of reckless transmutation,” he teased.

“Hey,” Edward said, “I’m not reckless, I’m innovative, ask my students.” The smile of pride on his face was a dead giveaway to Alphonse on how much the teaching career was suiting his brother.

 _He’s so happy,_ Al said and sighed softly, _He deserves all this happiness. The Colonel is really good to him._

Alphonse gave a half smile and clapped Edward on the shoulder.

“This is great Edward,” Alphonse said, “Did you think this is how it would turn out for us?”

“The happily ever after part?” his elder brother said, “Well yeah, I did. It is almost, I think.” Edward raised his automail hand and laid it over the back of Alphonse’s on his shoulder. Alphonse could feel the coolness of it, even through Edward’s glove.

 _We’re definitely going to work on that,_ Alphonse told his inner voice.

 _Can’t be truly happily ever after until Brother is fixed,_ Al agreed.

***

Any further musings were interrupted by the appearance of a small black and white missile. It came darting into the room and ran rapid circles for a moment.

“R.D.!” Alphonse said in that special, reserved baby-talk-for-the-dog way. “R.D., have you been a good boy,” he cooed at the puppy and Edward rolled his eyes.

R.D. went into spasms of trembling joy at his name from Alphonse’s lips. He stood shaking like he might explode and when Alphonse tried to pet him, he tore away in a tizzy down the hall, only to come racing back, small tail threatening to snap off his behind and go flying.

Edward got up and shook his head. He too tried to bend over to pet the dog, only to have it tear away again as if its happiness was so hard to contain he had to chase it down. Edward looked at Alphonse who grinned and shrugged.

“If we could only harness that energy,” Edward said, “we could rule the world.”

Both brothers laughed and Edward walked out of Alphonse’s room. This caused R.D. to bounce excitedly in the hallway. He would bounce straight up into the air, almost reaching eye level a time or two. Edward snorted at him, pulling off his own gloves and shrugging off his own coat, heading for the coat rack in the hall to deposit them. R.D. came charging along behind him, only to abandon him and go charging back down the hall.

Edward chuckled again as he heard Alphonse’s tones, if not his words, and the little terrier came zipping down the hall again to do an epileptic seizure of joy for a few moments, then stopped to have a little pant. He seemed to notice Roy’s absence at this point and barreled down the hall before Edward into their bedroom.

“You must be excited, Al is here,” he heard Roy say as he walked in. Roy was out of his work clothes already and pulling on his house wear. Edward watched him appreciatively for a few moments; he liked Roy’s cold weather lounging attire, the General looked good in sweaters and blousy, flannel, house pants.

R.D. decided that everyone was much too sedate about Alphonse’s arrival. He tore frantically around the room as Edward unbuttoned his vest and shirt, then went roaring down the hall again, yapping. His yapping would grow louder and then fade as he ran up and down the hallway.

“The dog is insane,” Edward informed Roy as he pulled on his own sweater, working it over the sock on his arm, “I hear they reflect their owners’ personalities,” Edward grinned charmingly at his lover.

“Well, constant exposure to you has helped that along, on both our counts,” his lover replied charmingly back.

Edward snorted, then grinned as Alphonse stuck his head in the doorway. R.D. squeezed past him and ran in to make the circuit of each man there. Edward tried to catch him again, but R.D. did an amazing almost back flip and slipped between his legs, running behind Roy’s legs and giving a very definite defiant yap.

“What’s the point of having a dog you can’t pet,” Edward groused, “Al has been trying to pet the little beast since the moment we walked in,” he gave Roy a look that indicated clearly this was his fault.

“He’s just excited,” Alphonse said, “he’ll calm down in a bit. Are we going to go sit around the living room?”

 _PUPPY!_ Al jiggled again, _I can’t believe the Colonel and Brother have a puppy!_ Alphonse got the distinct impression of the armor making ‘grabby hand’ motions.

Roy nodded and made the gentlemanly motion for Edward to precede him out the door, which Edward did. He grabbed Alphonse’s arm as he went and pulled his younger brother down the hall.

“Tell me all about that last hush-hush mission of yours,” the elder brother prodded, “Roy’s useless for intelligence nowadays. His mind is all caught up on his bid to be Prime Minister.” Edward looked over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes.

“Prime Minister?” Alphonse said, eyes widening, “A pirate for Prime Minister?”

Roy wondered how that old rumor had reached Ed’s ears. He thought he’d squashed it flat.

“Sure,” Edward said as they went through into the living room, “rape and pillage, you know. That’s everyday work in government.”

***

Al pestered Alphonse until R.D. was captured, then they held the squirming terrier prisoner in their lap for a good petting. R.D. finally succumbed to the pleasure of having Alphonse’s total attention and laid panting on Alphonse’s crossed legs.

“I’m not a liberty to discuss that mission at the moment,” Alphonse said, fingers buried in the short black and white fur of a wiggling dog butt.

 _At least not at the moment, I’d like a few days to relax before that particular conversation._

 _Puppy!_ Al practically drooled, being useless.

Edward slumped petulantly on the couch next the General and then began rearranging the blankets the General piled on him in an automatic fashion. He was used to this ritual.

“I hate being on the outs,” Edward grumbled, “it’s so unfair. You know, I used to be trusted with all kinds of delicate missions, I don’t know why I’m suddenly a horrible security breach,” he snorted.

“Loop-less,” the General said serenely, tucking a throw pillow behind Edward’s back as Edward spread some of the blankets over the General’s legs. “You’re a civilian now, FullMetal,” the General grinned, “welcome to being one of the uninformed masses.”

“I can’t wait to be loop-less myself,” Alphonse sighed and smiled, slouching a bit as R.D. wiggled around giving all the signs he was settled for the night right there in Alphonse’s lap.

“Won’t be long,” the General said, rubbing a sock clad foot that had materialized in his lap. “Just another 3 months. Try not to make the resignation letter too long or sentimental, everyone looks at me funny when I sniffle in the office,” he grinned.

“What did you have in mind for when you come home?” Edward grinned.

“Actually, I was thinking of starting my own alchemist for hire company,” Alphonse smiled, “the Colonel and I talk about it frequently. She says there are all manners of grants I can still get from the military and that the military uses contractual labor all the time. I’m a shoe-in for her office and I like working with the Colonel, I don’t see why it should end just because I retire from the military.”

Edward shifted about on the couch some, fingering the edge of his blanket. Roy kneaded on his foot a little harder and looked at him with a smile.

“Wouldn’t that require you to be live in East City?” Edward said, a bit subdued. “There has been talk at the academy about forming an intermediate class for Alchemy and that would leave a position open for the beginner class, since I would be first in line for the intermediate position. I was rather hoping you might consider that.” Edward looked over at his younger brother.

“That’s very generous,” Alphonse said, “but I think I would like to work on my own for a while. I have a few theories I’d like to propose and maybe get some grants for. I would still spend part of my time here; I’ll just keep my apartment in East City for when I have an assignment there.”

 _Grant money to fix brother,_ Al said.

 _Yes, the most important thing. I’ll need lab access as well; the Colonel of course will understand and help me, I know she will,_ Alphonse returned.

Edward went all broody after that and only half participated in the rest of the evening’s conversation. The General and Edward still had to work in the morning, so they all retired a bit early. Alphonse graciously let R.D. room with him.

***

  
After it had gotten dark and still in the house, and Roy was spooned to his back, Edward finally decided to whine a little.

“I don’t want him to live in East City,” he said in the stillness of the room, keeping his voice down, “I want him to live with us and be a family again.”

“We are a family Ed. It doesn’t matter if Al wants to live in East City,” Roy said. “He wants to do his own thing now, he’s earned the right. Let him grow up, I promise you’ll like the result.” He kissed over a metal shoulder to the side of a warm neck.

“He would be a marvelous teacher, I just know it,” Ed pressed. “The kids would love him because you can’t know him and not love him,” He scratched the pillow with an automail finger. “You know he’s only doing it because Hawkeye is there,” he said softly, “maybe you should speak to her about it. It’s… it’s not like… I mean…” he stuttered to a halt, not sure what to say.

Roy moved his lips to the back of Ed’s neck.

“Don’t you think that’s none of our business?” he said, muffled there. “I think that’s something Al and Riza need to work out between them.”

He felt Edward tense up and wondered at the reaction. Ed half turned his head to try and see Roy over his shoulder.

“That is where you are wrong,” he said tightly. “Al is totally my business. He’s still just a kid; I don’t want him to get hurt. Hawkeye isn’t interested in him the way he wants her to be, he needs to open his eyes and see it. For one thing, she is very military; even with Al’s resignation, he is still a minor. It would be frowned on and therefore she frowns on it. She’s older too, almost twelve years older, right? If Al wants to date, he needs to find some girls his own age. He won’t do that dogging Hawkeye’s heels.”

“You are being amazingly hypocritical,” Roy said blandly behind him. “If you even hint of this to Al you’re going to make him angry. I think you need to trust your brother and I think you need to let him take any hard knocks coming his way on his own. He’s strong Ed, let him prove it to you.”

“I’m not a hypocrite,” Ed hissed, “I know why you are saying that. You and I are a completely different situation. You can’t compare apples to oranges, I know Al is strong; he has to be for everything he went through, but he doesn’t have any experience with this…”

“I hope I’m an apple,” the General said. “But he needs experience and why are you so terrified of Hawkeye? Even if it’s a let down, it won’t be a bad one. You know she’ll be kind to him.”

“That’s part of the problem,” Ed said. “Not every girl out there will. I’m not scared of Hawkeye; I’m just worried for Al. Who do you know that has daughters his age? I mean that you like, or think will be right for him?”

“What?” Roy leaned up on his elbow. “I am not setting Al up, end of story.” He rolled onto his side then and Ed turned and glared at his back.

“You don’t have to do any setting up, just give me the names and I’ll handle it,” Ed said, rolling over and spooning to Roy’s back. “You know if he likes a girl here then maybe he’ll stay here and then he’ll be a teacher and we can all be happy.”

“That is your plan for happiness,” Roy said. “Alphonse isn’t figured into that equation. You’re being selfish, Ed.”

“Al is figured into every equation,” Ed growled. “You act like you don’t want him here! Talk about selfish; I know how you think. You’re thinking if Al is here, you can’t make love to me on every piece of furniture in the house in your spontaneous fashion. That is selfish, hypocrite.” Ed shoved away then to his side of the bed and Roy whipped over and glared at him.

“I thought being a teacher would make you think before putting that mouth into motion,” Roy said angrily. “I didn’t think it would make you take on the behavior of your pupils.”

“You aren’t contradicting me,” Edward growled back. “It’s not my maturity level on discussion here, it’s Al’s and _yours_. Al has been around the military his whole life, all of them! He doesn’t know any better; adults always surrounded him, it was the same with me. Adults to the left of me, adults to the right of me, I never stood a chance when my hormones decided to body slam me, but Al does! He has that chance now and I want him to take it. I want him to go through it normally, not the way I did. I’m not saying it wasn’t good or that it was wrong; I made do with what I had, I made it work, but that’s me and Al is different.”

“You ‘made do’?” the General hissed in a breath. “You’re damn right Al is different, so why the hell are you trying so hard to control him?” Roy sat up then, putting his hands on his quilt covered knees. “I can’t believe you just said that,” he mumbled, “what the hell does ‘made do’ mean? I was easily accessible? Is that it, Ed? Because I was there and I showed interest? What the fuck is all this then?” He made a gesture around the room. “You got complacent?” he hissed.

“Damn it, this isn’t about you,” Ed sat up as well. “You’re taking that out of context deliberately. I’m not trying to control Al! I’m just trying to figure out what might be in his best interests! It’s what I’m supposed to do, I’m his elder brother and the only family he’s got left.”

“I’m going to let you dig your own grave,” Roy snorted, then flopped down and turned on his side, with his back to Ed. “I’m going to sleep now, I have to go to work in the morning.”

“You’re taking this all wrong, that’s not what I meant and you know it,” Ed said, chest tightening a little.

“Sometimes I don’t know you as well as I think I do,” Roy muttered, “Now go to sleep and leave me alone. I’m tired.”

Ed worked his jaw and stared at Roy’s back for a few moments. He lay down, but didn’t turn and scoot to that promised warmth like he normally would. He stared at the ceiling. He should apologize, but that is what Roy was waiting on, wasn’t it? He didn’t mean it that way; Roy knew that, he was just doing this to distract him from Al. When Roy couldn’t win an argument, he used theatrics. Well, it wasn’t going to work this time. Roy knew he loved him, he should know that a thousand times over. Outside of Al, there wasn’t a single person left on the planet he’d work harder to please, it wasn’t right for Roy to twist his words back on him. He turned his head and looked at his back again; it might as well have been a wall at that moment. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

***

Alphonse raised his hand and petted the small black and white head that had popped up from the blankets, ears raised, cocking back and forth.

He heard the voices down the hall, too. He was pretty sure his Pirate sounded angry. He wondered what they were arguing about and sincerely hoped it wasn’t about him or his military choices, but knowing Edward, it was. Alphonse sighed and was glad when they voices died away. R.D. seemed to sigh too, and he laid his head back down as Alphonse closed his eyes.

***

Alphonse had gotten up when he heard the morning preparations for work commence down the hall. He went to the kitchen, R.D. at his heels, and immediately started coffee. He then found the second leash hanging by the back door and took R.D. out, stamping his feet and folding his arms against the morning cold, urging the little dog to hurry up his business. After coming back inside, he rummaged the ice box and found eggs and ham and cheese, and began making breakfast for everyone.

The General appeared first. He looked surprised and then pleased, and went to get the morning paper off the front stoop with R.D. hurrying after him on the off chance of getting to go out again. Edward stumbled in as the General was fetching his paper _(and then chasing his terrier in the front yard)_. Alphonse smiled and wordlessly handed over a cup of coffee with sugar, watching Edward lean against the counter to sip at it.

 _Still not a morning person I see,_ Al said.

“How did you sleep?” his elder brother inquired after he had enough coffee in his veins to engage his vocal chords.

“Rather well. You look like hell though,” Alphonse grinned, “but that doesn’t surprise me, you often did.”

Edward gave him a funny look for a moment, then shrugged it off and looked over as Roy appeared back into the kitchen, grumbling. He had R.D. tucked under one arm and his slightly chewed paper in the other hand.

Alphonse made no comment as he carried plates to the table and watched his brother and Pirate pretty much ignore each other. He sat down at the far end; Edward and the General sat opposite each other. R.D. took up immediate station next to Edward’s feet.

Edward looked down at the puppy and scowled, then proceeded to butter his toast. The General opened his paper and picked up his coffee cup. Alphonse rather felt like a third wheel in that moment, but said nothing. Obviously whatever they had argued about last night hadn’t cleared up in the light of dawn and their breakfast was consumed in mostly silence, broken only occasionally when Edward would inform R.D. how worthless he was while tossing him a scrap of ham.

They both stood at the same time from the table, regarding each other for the briefest of moments before both turning to Alphonse. He really wished he was a true third wheel now, but he grinned gamely.

“Have a great day at work,” he told the two of them. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine, R.D. is great company,” he assured. “If you tell me what you have in the ice box for dinner I can get it started before you come home,” he offered.

“Thank you Alphonse,” the General said. “You’re really thoughtful. There are some chops in there if you want to make use of them.”

“You’re not here to be our maid,” Edward cut in. “You don’t have to cook if you don’t want to. I’m sure one of us can handle it when we get home, Roy is the chop expert after all.”

“No, it’s alright,” Alphonse rushed in when the two of them once again regarded each other over the table. “I love to cook. Hey Edward, while you’re out today, will you stop by a newsstand and pick me up a copy of The Alchemic Almanac? I left my other one in East City. Pirate, will you bring me some stationery from the office? I left that behind too and I have a few letters I need to write even though I’m on leave.”

They both nodded and actually looked grateful at the Alphonse-shaped buffer placed between them.

“We better go,” the General said then, laying the paper on the table, “can’t have Edward being late to class.”

Alphonse got up and walked with them to the door, helping Edward get his coat over the extra bulk of his right arm and grabbing R.D. so there would be no more escapes that morning.

***

The drive in was mostly silent and Roy found it very irritating, but he grabbed Edward by the arm before he got out in front of the academy, pulling him close and kissing him. Edward kissed back immediately, closing his fingers on the General’s uniform jacket for a moment, before pulling back and looking around. It was still early enough to go mostly unnoticed and they regarded each other evenly.

“Not apologizing,” Edward mumbled.

“Didn’t expect you to,” the General returned with a scowl.

Then Edward pushed away, grabbed his briefcase and got out of the car, looking back once before hurrying up the steps toward the front doors. The General leaned on the steering wheel and watched him go, sighing. That comment really hurt, the least the little shit could do was give him something. It was damnable Elric pride that kept him so tight lipped, that and the belief that he was never truly wrong when it came to dealing with _Roy_.

Roy sighed and drummed the steering wheel with his thumbs before putting the car back in gear and driving the block and a half to the main headquarters building.

***

  
The students could tell the Professor was in a rather subdued mood. He overlooked some talking while he was drawing alchemic material symbols on the board to be copied for a test. He would glance back at them when they got a bit too loud, so they tried hard not to take advantage. It was the last day before the weekend and the Professor was usually a little more lenient, but even for him this was down right coddling. He finished up the notes for copying and turned to look at them, hands on his hips.

“Okay you lot, you’ve done really well this week, so as long as you copy the notes and _study_ ,” he emphasized, “I’m going to let you talk amongst yourselves quietly for the rest of the period.”

Something was wrong. Daniel looked at Seth who looked at Eric who looked at Duffy who looked at Boyd who looked at Bernard who looked at Richard. Richard looked at the Professor who had sat down behind his desk, shuffling notes and they all looked with him and tried to figure out what was going on.

Daniel suddenly leaned across the isle and whispered to Seth.

“Distract him; ask him a question,” he said, “about anything. You’re our club expert on FullMetal.”

Seth nodded solemnly. He had been so proud to be assigned the Professor when it was decided they would each research an Alchemist and archive his or her achievements for the club. Seth looked toward the front of the room and straightened his glasses, plucking out a question from the teeming knowledge he’d actually been dying to ask. This seemed like a good time.

“Professor,” he asked politely, raising his hand as he did so. The Professor looked up at him and nodded, acknowledging his right to ask a question. Seth stood.

“Sir, I was reading about how you could do alchemy without circles,” Seth said, “it says you are the only known alchemist to date, with the exception of a woman named Izumi Curtis, that could do it. Izumi Curtis was never state sanctioned, so there are no official records on her and she passed away without leaving any journals behind for the state library. Can you teach us how to do alchemy without circles?” he asked innocently.

The Professor said nothing for several moments and Seth sank back into his seat, shooting a worried glance in Daniel’s direction.

“Izumi Curtis was my martial arts master and alchemy teacher when I was younger than you are now,” the Professor suddenly said, “but she is not the reason I can do alchemy without circles.”

The room got very quiet and Edward sighed. He wondered when this would be brought up. He thought he would just tell them ‘No’ and leave it at that when the time came, but he couldn’t do that, not to these curious and bright boys. It wouldn’t be fair. But, what could he tell them and how much could he tell them? Not much, he admitted to himself.

“Alchemy without circles isn’t achievable by normal means,” he said slowly. “It’s like… the philosopher’s stone; you come by it through an act of desperation.” He tucked the notes he had been reading into a book on his desk and then clasped his hands before him.

“There are extraordinary circumstances involved and people rarely live through them,” the Professor said seriously. “I was lucky and then I somehow fell into the lap of other people who actually cared what happened to me and my brother. I am teaching you about Equivalent Exchange,” the Professor continued, “and how it figures into alchemy as a science. Science isn’t about desperation; it’s about concrete facts. It’s about truth. Truth is rarely pretty and sometimes it’s down right vicious, but we all need to learn to live with it, because the alternative is living a lie and a lie is a half-life.”

 _Homunculus are told the biggest lie of all, aren’t they?_

“I know chapter two of your basics book covers the laws of alchemy. I suggest you reread it very carefully and not only commit it to memory, but etch it into your hearts. Believe me when I tell you there are things that, no matter what you sacrifice, alchemy cannot put right. Alchemizing without circles isn’t something I can do because of hard work and determination; it is something I can do because I tried to break the laws.

“I told myself I would never alchemize without circles in front of the lot of you; it was pointless, it would bring up needless questions and you couldn’t do it anyway, but that would be disrespectful of me; I never want to give you answers without facts. Alchemy is science and science is fact and fact is truth, the truth of the matter is: I fucked up royally and I won’t let you do the same. Please don’t tell any of your parents I used the word ‘fuck’ again, alright?”

There was some very solemn head nodding from his troops. The Professor half smiled at them.

“Science is a serious business isn’t it,” he said, “but since you did bring it up and you did listen, I guess it won’t hurt to show you alchemy without circles just once. Who has something they want transmuted?”

There was a rush for the big desk and he should know that telling them ‘just once’ would be something he could never hold to. He clapped himself silly for the rest of the period.

***

The silence of the morning on the ride into work was broken by the few comments on the evening drive home. Roy was always magnanimous, so he offered first.

“How was class?” he asked after Edward climbed in and got settled.

“It was fine,” Edward said with a smile, “I finally got the dreaded ‘alchemy without circles’ question,” he looked over at Roy.

“How did that go?” the General asked. He knew the probability of being asked that particular question had worried Ed. He cared about the kids he was in charge of for an hour a day, it was a nod to his character and his compassion, and very like him to be that way. It was one of the things Roy loved most about him.

“I think it went pretty well, I told them everything while telling them nothing and stressed the importance of Alchemic law,” Ed bit his bottom lip, “at least I hope I did.”

Roy knew the headquarters complex like the back of his hand. They always took a back gate out, there was less traffic. He nodded at the soldier who saluted them as they drove past the guard house and as they pulled out onto the main road, Roy reached over and found Ed’s hand, pulling it to his lips and kissing the knuckles once before releasing it.

“I’m sure they will be fine,” he said, “you are both a role model and a force to be reckoned with if they screw up.”

“I guess I need to try and be meaner on Fridays,” the blonde sighed.

 

**

 

The smell of chops made their mouths water when they walked in the door. Then they did the quick-footed dance of ‘trip up R.D. before he makes a break out the front door’ and managed it successfully before shutting the door.

“Welcome home,” Alphonse called cheerfully from down the hall in the kitchen doorway, “dinner is almost ready, you two get comfy!”

 _They aren’t scowling at each other, maybe they made up,_ Al said hopefully.

 _Time and dinner will tell,_ Alphonse told him.

***

The make up process was a very interesting thing and Alphonse studied it closely. Not that he would ever have to practice it he was sure, but it never hurt to take mental notes. Dinner was pleasant enough. Each complemented Alphonse on his cooking talents and both offered to help with the dishes. Alphonse let Edward help and sent the General off to entertain R.D. and read the evening edition of the paper, then both brothers went to the living room as well. Edward sat down on the couch and looked toward Roy who was sitting in his leather chair. Alphonse sat on the second chair, an overstuffed, but shorter, cloth version of the leather one and patted his knees for R.D. to jump up in his lap.

“How was class?” Alphonse asked.

“It was good,” Ed replied.

“How was the office?” Alphonse asked.

“It was good,” the General replied.

Alphonse noticed how Edward kept glancing at the General, but saying nothing. Then he remembered he’d gotten Alphonse the almanac and went to get it out of his coat pocket, returning a few moments later to offer it to his younger brother.

Alphonse thanked him, settled and opened it; he let R.D. investigate it as well with a small, wiggling, black nose.

The General was now glancing at Edward, who’d picked up the news digest that had come in the mail that morning.

Edward glanced up and they both looked at each other a moment before glancing back down again at their prospective reading materials.

“Why don’t we let Alphonse listen to your new phonograph disc,” Edward offered casually.

The General rustled his paper and closed it, folding it and setting it on the chair’s side table.

“I think you’ll like it Alphonse,” he said, standing up and stretching before heading for the den to get the phonograph, “it’s a jazz trio that’s been gaining popularity lately.” He went to retrieve the box and disc. R.D. leapt from Alphonse’s lap and trotted after him to keep him company on his journey.

The phonograph was given a place of honor on the credenza, the disc was put to spinning and the needle lowered over it. Alphonse smiled as the first note took the room and his Pirate closed his eyes for a moment before walking over and handing Alphonse the record sleeve for his reading pleasure. It brought him close to the couch, which he promptly sat down on, not two hand spans away from Edward, who was watching the General with an unreadable expression.

R.D., having trotted back in after a full den investigation, stood in indecision about which one of them to assault first while Alphonse tried very hard to concentrate on the record sleeve in his hand and not on the events taking place on the couch. Roy settled back and R.D. decided to jump up between him and Edward. Roy scratched the little head and ears, crossing his legs and getting comfortable. Edward studiously ignored the dog by concentrating on his digest, but he also leaned back and took up a comfortable slouch, leaning toward Roy just a bit.

Roy’s hand dropped off to the other side of R.D. and R.D., deciding that was all he was going to get from Roy, scooted over and made a bid for Edward’s lap. Edward snorted and grunted as the little dog wiggled between him and his digest, and turned to look at Roy, mouth pulling down.

“Your dog is on me,” Edward said.

“So I see,” the General returned, “he seems to like you. He must be a glutton for abuse.”

“Kindly remove your dog from my lap,” Alphonse’s brother intoned in an insulted air. “I’m trying to read.”

“You heard the man, R.D.,” the General scooted over closer than necessary and scooped the terrier up, depositing him on the floor.

R.D. didn’t know the meaning of insult and happily trotted over to stand up with his paws on Alphonse’s knees. Alphonse graciously helped him up into his own lap and went back to pretending the record sleeve held deep meaning to all things meaningful and alchemic that he’d been struggling for all these years. He wanted to leave the room, because that would be best, but it seemed rude since the record was being played of his benefit.

 _We need to get out of here,_ Al broke in, confirming Alphonse’s suspicions. _They won’t make up and smooch with us watching,_ he informed helpfully, then turned his attentions to a wiggling puppy.

 _If I just get up and leave, that will seem obvious,_ Alphonse said, _and that might make them subconscious of what they are doing. Edward gets uncomfortable in situations like this. You would think, as long as he’s been with the General, things like this would come easily._

 _We are talking about Brother,_ Al said, _he never lets anything come easily. He goes out of his way to find the most difficult path possible and if none of the paths he chooses are difficult, he thinks he owes some karmic debt because he didn’t have to suffer along the way. He’s in love with guilt more than anything else on the planet and that includes you and me._

Alphonse bit his bottom lip to keep from smiling, and then hit upon some inspiration, laying the record sleeve aside and standing with R.D. in his arms.

“I’m going to take R.D. for a walk. When I get back, can I have use of the den to write the letters I had you pilfer office stationery for?” he asked, smiling.

 _Ooooo, good one,_ Al congratulated.

The General smiled at him and Edward half scowled.

“You don’t need permission to use the den Al,” Edward said, “this is your house too.”

“Alright then,” Alphonse said, taking the wiggling puppy out into the hall.

***

Roy listened to the sound of dog nails scrabbling in the foyer. He knew it meant R.D. was doing a dance of excitement and joy to be going out, making it very difficult for Alphonse to get his leash on him. He was smiling to himself over it, picturing the boy trying to reason with the puppy, when something warm covered the back of the hand he had resting on the couch between he and Edward.

He spread his fingers slightly and without hesitation, Edward’s fingers moved between them as Roy tightened his fingers back together. The front door opened and closed, and Edward’s fingers tightened as well. They said nothing for a few moments as Edward still fiddled the digest in his lap with his automail hand.

Roy knew that it was usually himself that made the first overtures in situations like these. He’d learned it was just a part of loving Edward, to be the one to always bend first. He’d done it so much in Edward’s boyhood, he wasn’t sure why he thought now should be any different.

But maybe it should be, somewhat. Edward was no longer a boy; he was an adult now, having survived his crazy childhood amazingly enough, almost unscathed. That spoke volumes for Edward’s strength. Roy moved the pad of his thumb onto the back of Edward’s thumb and rubbed up and down slowly. Just as he was going to open his mouth and speak, a blonde head leaned against his shoulder.

“I love Al so much, sometimes it makes me stupid,” Edward sighed. “You do that to me too,” his voice lowered a bit, his fingers tightened more. “You put up with a lot,” he offered.

It wasn’t an apology, but it was something like it. Roy felt himself bend in the places in his heart that had become so very elastic when he actually fell in love. He turned his head and kissed the top of a blonde one, then leaned his forehead against it.

“Love doesn’t make you stupid, Edward,” he said, smile spreading despite himself, “I’m fairly certain you do that on your own.”

He then laughed, yanking his head back before the top of Edward’s connected with his nose, and fought to hold onto the fingers entangled in his. But it only lasted a minute and Edward subsided, looking at him with a soften version of his scowl.

“Okay, I deserved that,” he said flatly. “Since you’ve admitted you’re not all-seeing, I suppose I can’t tell you to warn me in advance when I’m going to have an episode of idiocy.”

“What fun would my life be if I could do that?” Roy grinned. “These little lapses between times of absolute bliss remind me I’m still earth bound.”

“Oh stop it with the mush,” Edward grimaced, “no need to punish me any further for my momentary lapses.”

“You know the best way to shut me up, don’t you?” the General raised his eyebrow.

Edward kissed him. Forgiven again.

***

Sunday evening rolled around.

The trio had lived through enough adventure for many life times, so lazy comfort and quiet was always well appreciated. They’d tried to play a few hands of cards, but one or the other of them would become distracted and the remaining two wouldn’t feel the need to pressure them into actually paying attention to the game.

 _Let’s speak to Brother now,_ Al said as Alphonse toyed with the little wooden peg game that the General kept mostly for decoration on the living room’s shelves.

Alphonse glanced across the room at his brother, half asleep on the couch where he had been working on a class assignment. His glasses were teetering on the end of his nose and his elbow looked like it was about to slide off the couch arm.

 _You know, you must have had to do this a lot,_ Alphonse said. _Catch him when he’s off guard to bring up potential serious issues._

 _You don’t know the half of it. I’ve had more success in my life getting appliances to talk to me than Brother. They realized what a bad idea the mold they made for his stubbornness was, so they broke it before he was out of it, is my guess,_ Al said wryly.

 _What should we say first,_ Alphonse asked. _He shuts up tighter than a virgin’s thighs if I make the wrong first move._

 _That’s an interesting analogy… have we had sex yet?_ Al asked, _Because if we have, you’re hiding it well._

Alphonse felt his cheeks heat and he sucked in his bottom lip.

 _We’ve almost had sex. Do you remember Pamela?_ Alphonse said. _She came really close to actually taking her shirt off once, I’m certain of it._

 _What happened?_ Al asked, riveted.

 _Her cat came through carrying one of its kittens in its mouth. It was so cute,_ Alphonse grinned. _A really pretty calico cat too, and the kitten was little and white._

 _Remember it for me!_ Al said excitedly.

 _Anyway, after I had to go and watch the mother cat carry her whole litter from under the kitchen table to a spot behind the sofa in the living room, she seemed to lose interest. We didn’t date again after that,_ Alphonse said. _She was always busy when I called,_

 _I’m not getting any cat memories here,_ Al said, tapping his foot.

 _Oh right,_ Alphonse said and dutifully began to rerun the evening through his mind. That is when he noticed Edward watching him with the corners of his mouth pulled down.

Alphonse looked to his side to see what R.D. might possibly be doing to cause Edward to frown like that, but the little dog was nowhere to be seen. He looked back over at his elder brother.

“Al, you feeling alright?” Edward asked, pulling off the glasses threatening to come off on their own and laying them on the coffee table along with his notebook.

 _OH, you must have been making faces again,_ Al said, _I warned you about that! I could see you doing in the mirror at your apartment,_ Al sighed.

“I’m fine,” Alphonse said, “I’m just going over some theories in my head.”

 _Better than saying I’m just reliving some cat memories for the disembodied voice that lives there, I suppose,_ Alphonse said.

 _I feel like a reference book,_ Al snorted, _You only acknowledge me when you need something. You know I’ve lived this life too, only on the mostly non-vocal side._

 _I’m going for it,_ Alphonse suddenly said.

“Edward, tell me about the homunculus,” he blurted. His elder brother’s eyes widened and he sat back into the couch.

“You’re making theories on homunculus?” Edward said breathlessly. Something in his eyes cringed and Alphonse heard the click of metal fingers bunching in the blankets.

“No,” Alphonse said. “On my last mission, I captured one. Its name is Wrath, it knew who I was and I knew who it was and you need to give me some answers.”

  
No.

No, not that. They were past that. Their lives were their own.

“Talk to me Edward,” Alphonse said, a pleading note coming into his tone.

“I… don’t know what you want me to say,” Edward said, gaze shifting from his younger brother’s imploring look. “There is nothing to say. There are books about homunculus; I know you’ve read them.” Edward wet his lips and looked toward the arched door of the living room like he might be longing to go to it and away from this conversation.

“He called me ‘that pipsqueak Alchemist’s brother’, he knew me,” Alphonse stressed. “Edward, just tell me how I knew this thing, how it knew you. What did it mean to us? What did we do?” he pressed. “Brother, give me back my life. _Please_.”

Edward’s eyes darted to him at the ‘pipsqueak’ remark, his hand was resting on the arm of the couch, only resting was too sedate a word. His white-knuckled grip looked like it might snap the arm at any moment.

 _He still reacts to being called short,_ Al sighed. _At least we have his attention again. Just be persistent and calm. He can’t handle calm, it wears him down. He’d much rather provoke a screaming match, it’s how he escapes really critical matters._

“It’s not like I’m asking for forbidden things. I’m not asking for you to break any laws, I just want what you know that I used to. Edward, I’m seventeen years old, but I have the feeling I should be older. I feel like part of me is missing. I know you can help me with that, please just try.” Alphonse shook with his control. Al was right, as long as he stayed calm and steady, then Edward had no good reason to bolt. Edward was a creature of fierce passion. With nothing to rage against, he was powerless.

“I don’t want to tell you,” his brother suddenly admitted in ragged tones. “I don’t want you to remember,” he turned haunted, golden eyes on Alphonse. “Al, you’re so much better off now, you don’t have to know all the things that happened. What is missing in your life now that you need so badly as to want all that… pain? Tell me, I can find something else. I’ll give you anything else, I don’t want to give you nightmares.”

“Not good enough,” Alphonse said. “That is not an excuse. I’m _asking_ you. As your brother, your only brother, don’t keep these things from me anymore. I’m not a child to be coddled; it’s unfair and unreasonable for you to keep this from me. It’s unfair and unreasonable for you to demand everyone else do it too!” That was something that really angered Alphonse, though he’d never voiced it directly. It twisted in his gut that his brother had so much power over his life, even to those around them, that he could force their silence.

 _Don’t start shouting,_ Al said. _It won’t accomplish anything. Maybe this is a bad idea, he looks scared. We don’t have to do this! You can just give over…_

“To who?” Alphonse shouted. “To you? Just let you have it all back and lose everything I am?!” He realized then that he’d spoken aloud and he looked up at Edward. His brother was almost panting and he’d half raised himself from the couch.

Alphonse gained his feet, fists working, and jaw tight. Edward rose all the way as well, his eyes searching Alphonse’s face with the worst look.

 _Let’s stop,_ Al said faintly. _You’re too upset, you’re upsetting him, I don’t want to upset him. He’s been through so much and this is pointless. I don’t know why you’re so afraid; I won’t take what you are! I promise!_

Alphonse swallowed hard and still Edward did not speak. It was enough, it was just enough; he wasn’t a back seat to his brother’s fears! He wanted his own life, he didn’t want the one Edward wanted to mold for him! He’d given Edward six long years of searching and heartache and tears, and this is how he was thanked. It was ludicrous and wrong. What could possibly be so horrible that Edward would go to such lengths? Nothing was worth this; it was about control, plain and simple.

“What is so horrible? What was it? Something I did?,” Alphonse cried.

Edward went positively ghostly.

“NO,” he cried, “it wasn’t anything you did Alphonse, please! I know you must be frustrated but trust me…”

“What can I trust,” Alphonse retaliated, “if it’s not something I did, then what was it? Was it something _you_ did?”

He wished, just in that moment as Al gasped in his mind and Edward reacted as if his words were a physical blow, that he could take it back.

 _If I back down now, I will never get anything from him,_ Alphonse cried. _You promised you would help me!_

 _Calm down, you have to calm down! Please don’t hurt him,_ Al pleaded, _I know he’s stubborn, but he loves you so much and he thinks he’s doing what is right for us. He’s lived his life for us._

“I don’t want you to live my life for me,” Alphonse said, “if you live my life for me, why am I here?”

Edward’s jaw worked then, he was struggling with his breathing and he swallowed hard.

“It’s not like that,” he said, his voice almost raw. “Alphonse, you have to believe me when I tell you it’s better, it’s better not to remember. I don’t know how to convince you.” Edward reached toward him then. “We went through so much so you could have this life, please, you can be happy now. It’s all I’ve wanted.”

“I suppose what I want doesn’t matter,” Alphonse said, voice dropping.

 _No, that’s not true. He thinks he’s doing this for you. We have to show him…_ Al started.

 _There is no ‘we’,_ Alphonse said. _There is me and it looks like that is all there will ever be._

  
“That’s not true,” Edward said. “Of course what you want matters.”

“Then answer my questions, that is what I want,” Alphonse yelled. “That is all I want from you Edward. Just answer my questions and can keep from me anything I don’t know to ask about, that way you won’t totally have to give up your precious control of my life!”

He couldn’t help it. Everything was welling up inside of him, it was like dam when the floodwaters came and they just kept coming. It was too late to stop them.

“I don’t want to control you,” his elder brother wailed. “I just want to protect you!”

“I don’t need your protection,” Alphonse returned, “I took care of myself for six years! Six year while you were off wherever you were, another one your precious secrets! I don’t care about that,” Alphonse made a sweep with his hand. “It’s obvious you don’t care enough to tell us, not me or the General. We looked for you! We worried for you and you don’t have the decency to tell us anything!”

It was all spinning out of control, he just couldn’t stop it. He had to let it out or go mad with it.

Edward’s mouth worked but little sound was heard, his fingers clenched and unclenched. He finally shook his head as if to free himself of something and his eyes were oddly bright.

“Please don’t do this to me, Al,” his elder brother _begged_. “Please, let me help you find another way, we always said we could find another way.”

In seeking to keep things from him, his brother inadvertently gave things to him in little slipped phrases as he’d done now, every now and again. Alphonse realized it, painfully aware, that it was more than Edward wanted to give.

“Another way,” Alphonse said slowly. “Edward, was I _in_ armor or _was I armor_ ,” his lips pulled tight and his own breathing becoming ragged. A fear gripped him so hard and so tight, he felt his vision tunnel for a moment.

“Am I a homunculus?” Alphonse whispered.

  
 _As I told you before, do we want him having confusing visions and being unable to decipher them himself, thinking he _can’t_ come to us because we won’t talk to him? I can only imagine some the conclusions he might draw from them. Think about this Edward; think about how much harm it might actually do.”_

  
“No,” Edward said in a voice so thin it was unrecognizable, “no, Al.” he choked.

His younger brother stood panting, face flushed, eyes welling with unshed tears. Edward was shaking so hard he clamped his teeth together to keep them from chattering.

I have to tell him.

 _No, I don’t want him to remember… what I did._

I’ll lose him if I don’t.

 _No, he loves me. If he’ll just calm down, we can talk I can make him see why this is such a bad idea._

He’s not… the same as before.

Reality spun for a moment. Everything darkened at the edges. He heard himself, repeating over and over _I’m not fifteen anymore, stop treating me like I never left!_

“Still nothing,” Alphonse yelled, “If your secrets mean so much to you, then KEEP THEM! If they are more important to you than I am, THEN I DON’T NEED YOU EITHER!”

All his sins came to roost on his shoulders. He hardly felt them, as one shoulder was metal and heavy to begin with. He wondered at the numbness that held him, that concreted his tongue to the bottom of his mouth, that constricted his throat so tightly there wasn’t even the possibility to swallow.

“That’s enough,” another voice said, an outsider come to witness his final fall from the world.

Alphonse was panting hard, his unshed tears all to shed now. He stared at Roy a moment without truly seeing him, but then he did and looked as if he wondered why he was there.

“You don’t mean that Alphonse,” the General said, keeping his voice calm and level. “You’re overwrought; don’t say anything else you’re going to regret in the morning.”

But Alphonse’s pain was loose and wild and he lashed out to all sides, even to those he also longed to run to for comfort.

“STOP TAKING HIS SIDE,” Alphonse screamed through the pain. “What about me? You’re always worried about me hurting _him_ , what about how he’s hurting me?” the boy sobbed.

Edward moved then, as if some spell was broken. Alphonse stared at him and then backpedaled to avoid his hands.

“No Al,” he was saying. “No Al, please listen to Roy, we can talk about this. I want to tell you, I just don’t know what to tell you. Alphonse, please!” Edward cried and pursued him until the General caught his arm. He jerked against it and turned to stare at Roy.

“You’re never going to give me anything important,“ Alphonse hissed. “Stop interfering with my life! I don’t care if I have to question everyone between here and East City, I’ll find out without you! There has to be someone you don’t hold some sway over, someone who will tell me the _truth_! I’m going back East, there is nothing for me here!” he spat, then turned and ran from the room, down the hall toward the bedrooms.

“AL,” Edward screamed after him and struggled in Roy’s grip. He turned with teeth gritted and slammed his hand against Roy’s chest, realizing belatedly it was the automail one. He gaped up at Roy, apology fumbling for exit from his lips, but Roy just grimaced and took it.

“If you go after him, you better be prepared to tell him everything and I mean everything, Ed,” Roy grated. “Nothing less is going to do it. Everything Ed, about your mother, your automail and his body.”

Edward almost convulsed in his hold and Roy dragged him against his chest.

“We tried to tell you,” Roy tried to say gently, “Riza warned you, I shouldn’t have let your pain sway me.”

Edward twisted angrily then and broke away completely. His eyes screamed for help but his mouth had other ideas.

“Saying ‘I told you so’ isn’t going to help this,” he snarled. “How can you be so petty as to bring that up now? I can’t tell him about… about that! How can you expect me to? What I did to him! How can I tell him that? Why should I have to when he doesn’t remember?”

“Withholding Alphonse’s memories is not your absolution Ed,” Roy snarled back. “Alphonse not remembering doesn’t make what happened go away!” Gods he shouldn’t have said it. Why was his judgment always looking the other way when his heart was under siege?

Edward was staring at him. His eyes no longer sought help; it was beyond the time for help.

“YOU FUCKING BASTARD,” Edward screamed. “How dare you, how dare you! It’s NOT THAT! IT’S NOT THAT! I WOULD NEVER MAKE IT ABOUT THAT!” he raged. Roy reached for him, then reacted instinctively to avoid the incoming blow, his reflexes saving him from the strike that glanced past his cheek.

“What are you doing?” Alphonse said, standing in the doorway of the living room. His suitcase struck the floor with a dull thud. “Don’t you dare hit him!” The boy charged forward and Roy leapt, throwing himself between the brothers. Alphonse ran into his chest as Edward came up against his back and they all went still and silent.

Alphonse looked up at him, shaking. Edward ground his forehead into his back, hands clutching at the back of his sweater.

“I want to take all of this from both of you,” Roy heard himself say, “and never let either of you hurt again, but I can’t do that no matter how hard I want to. I’m the only one that bends,” his voice dropped, “I’m the only one that knows how.”

“Take me to the station,” Alphonse begged, no words were going to reach him now and he wanted to run. The boy’s life centered on logic, but in this moment it failed him. “Please, Pirate.” he asked.

“Don’t go,” sounded Edward’s strangled voice from behind him, his hands dragging downward on Roy’s sweater, “please don’t go, Al. Please let me try to explain.”

But Alphonse wasn’t listening anymore. He appealed to Roy once more with his eyes, then pushed away and headed for the hall.

“Alphonse,” Roy said and caught hold of Ed as he tried to get past. Ed struggled and Roy let him go, running after Alphonse into the hall.

“Leave me alone,” Alphonse’s voice sounded high and near hysterical, moving Roy’s feet to follow after them. Alphonse had the door handle but Edward had his hands flat against the door, holding it closed.

Roy closed his hands over Edward’s shoulders and Edward turned his head to look at him, wild and desperate. Roy tightened them, pulling back, and Ed made a strangled sound of disbelief. Alphonse jerked the door open and fled out through it as Edward cried out.

“You have to let him have some distance,” Roy’s voice rolled over him, but he couldn’t think, “he has to calm down. He’s not going to listen to anything you say right now,” Roy struggled with him, pushed him against the wall and trapped his wrists. A black eye met gold and Edward arched from the wall for a moment, then collapsed back against it. Roy slowly let his wrists go, reached up beside him and pulled his coat from the rack, shrugging it on.

“I’ll try to talk to him, but what can we do right now? We can’t force him to stay here,” Roy reached to touch Ed’s face, but Ed turned his eyes away and Roy let his hand drop. Then he was out the door and gone as well.

Ed pushed off the wall, walked without seeing into the living room and just stood, unable to move past the moment.

The law of equivalency had been laid bare with the stone. The truth was a lie, but still the truth in the end, unavoidable as the rising and setting of the sun.

He thought he’d paid, but he hadn’t.

Here to collect was his atonement.


	7. Chapter 7

R.D. went into the bedroom, the house was quiet and the smells were few. He pranced at the side of the bed and ran to the foot where a trunk sat, butted up against the footboard. He hopped up onto it and rose up on his hind legs, resting his front paws on the top of the footboard. He gathered himself and cleared it, landing on the end of the bed, his slight weight made no real impression on the mattress.

The occupant of the bed was lying face down and made no acknowledgement of his presence. He smelled strange and subdued as R.D. edged up slowly near his knee, but not too close. He laid out on his tummy with ears up, but flopped over at the tops, waiting for the voice that grumbled to speak to him. He tilted his head back and forth, but no voice raised or lowered in pitch was offered in his direction. He laid his head on his outstretched front legs and wagged his tail back and forth a few times, hoping to attract attention. When that didn’t work, he began to scoot, wigging back and forth up the comforter toward the top of the body lying on the bed.

He got parallel to the face and slowly, red-rimmed eyes opened and regarded him dully. He wagged his tail frantically and scooted forward again, then stretched out with his neck and the tip of his tongue briefly washed the end of a nose.

“So you still like me, huh?” a voice said, raw with grief and other untold things. “Shows what a worthless thing you really are.”

R.D. scooted closer since the voice wasn’t shrill; it sounded weighed down and tired. This time, the tongue touched a chin and was rewarded with the warmth and weight of a hand settling on his small, furred back. It rubbed him once or twice and then stilled.

“Stupid dog,” his blonde snack-giver said. “Nuisance,” he whispered and swallowed, his hand beginning to rub again.

R.D. laid his head back down on his outstretched front legs. He’d better watch this one until the other one got home.

***

The silence of the drive extended into the station where they both knew good and well there would be no train leaving at this hour. He stood back as Alphonse checked anyway and bought a ticket for the following morning. As the money changed hands, Roy’s hopes of getting Alphonse to go back with him and speak with his brother dwindled.

Alphonse made his way back over to Roy slowly, ticket clutched in his fingers and suitcase hitting the side of his knee. He seemed lost in that moment, swimming in whatever it was lying behind his eyes. He turned to look at an empty bench against the station wall and then started toward it when Roy’s hand closed around his arm.

“You don’t think I’m going to leave you here all night on a bench,” Roy said quietly, “that I refuse to do.”

“Not going back,” Alphonse said hoarsely, “so what do you suggest.”

Roy released his arm and took his shoulders, steering him back out into the cold night air. They stood on the outer bricks of the station for a moment and then Roy moved them forward, across the street and into a hotel standing there. Alphonse stood quietly by his side as Roy secured a room and key, taking the boy’s shoulders again and leading him to it, unlocking it and reaching in to turn on the light so Alphonse didn’t have to go into another new situation in darkness.

Alphonse dropped the suitcase and moved to sit on the side of the bed. He laced his fingers, hands hanging between his knees; he didn’t raise his eyes to Roy’s face.

Roy stood for a moment, then moved forward slowly and put his hand on the top of that dark blonde head and rubbed. Alphonse made a ragged sound, but didn’t move to stop him.

“I know, Alphonse,” he said quietly, “I know it hurts. I want you to think about this long and hard before you get on the train in the morning. Edward is your only family, shutting him out is like shutting part of yourself out.” Alphonse jerked his head from beneath the touch then and Roy knew any attempt to try and coax the boy back to talk to his brother was the offense of ‘taking Edward’s side’ now. He sighed and stuck his hand back in his coat pocket.

“Will you call me at least, when you get to East City?” Roy said, “To let me know you made it back alright?”

“Yes,” Alphonse said lowly. “You know I will, what is between he and I isn’t between you and I, Pirate,” he offered.

“That’s not true, but we’ll leave it for now,” Roy said. “Alphonse, I’d like to stay, but you know that I can’t.”

Alphonse gave a curt nod and stood, shrugging out of his coat.

“I know that,” he said trying hard not to sound bitter, “I understand your relationship with him is different than mine. It’s okay, I’m fine, you better go back.”

Helplessness is a hateful thing in the mind of a General. He so wanted to knock heads together and it didn’t really matter who’s at this point. They were determined in their beautiful and tragic way to tear him to pieces, because truly he was in a moment that he didn’t know which way to turn. Alphonse sat on the bed again and toed off his shoes; he stopped and looked at Roy.

“Call me,” the General said, “it takes about forty-five minutes to get home from the city,” he continued, “so when I leave, if you want to call me, _(to come and get you, to bring you back home so we can fix this, to let me help)_ , you need to wait that long at least.”

“I’ll call you from East City,” Alphonse said dully, “so don’t expect to hear from me for a couple of days.”

Roy turned for the door and left, not trusting himself with any more words. It may seem arrogant on his part, _(and it’s not like he hadn’t been accused of it before)_ , but it wouldn’t do for Alphonse to hear him beg.

For Alphonse, he would sympathize and glower and threaten.

It was for Edward that he would beg.

***

He was welcomed home despite it, and watched the little terrier trot toward the bedroom and back to him several times. The General turned off the lights in the living room and den as he made his way through the quiet house. He stood in the doorway looking at the silhouette on the bed, watched R.D.’s trick of using the trunk to hop up onto the high bed. The puppy then paced on the bed, between Ed’s prone form and the edge, looking toward Roy.

Roy moved into the room, unbuttoning his cuffs as he did so, going to the dresser for his pajamas. When he was ready, he went for Ed’s pajamas, carrying them to the bed, laying them at the foot of it. He ran his hand up Ed’s back, hooked his hand over Ed’s shoulder and rolled him back onto his side. He slid his other hand beneath Ed’s other shoulder and sat him up.

He put his hand behind Ed’s head, pulling his forehead against his chest as he undid the tie holding his ponytail, then he sat his lover back up. He was not surprised at the behavior, the total listlessness, the silence and non-resistance. It was how Ed coped in matters of the heart and Roy had unfortunately seen it before. He’d often held a silent and unresponsive fifteen year old against his chest, struggling for the right way to provoke him into life.

He tried to think back to what he did those times as he bunched his hands in the bottom of Ed’s sweater and drew it up. Ed did react enough to lift his arms, but the General had to stop half way through and gently work the sweater loose when it snagged on an automail arm. After that, it went fairly quickly and he shooed R.D. to the end of the bed, tugging the covers down and laying Edward back down on his pillow. He rounded to his side of the bed and got in, shut off the bedside light and lay back in the dark and silence as R.D. turned a few circles at the foot of the bed and settled down.

Roy knew sleep would have to be coaxed to him and settled with resignation. Ed moved, violently and suddenly, turning on his side toward Roy and Roy reacted instinctively, almost curling up, startled. Edward’s flesh arm came down across his chest and his head ground into his shoulder and Roy forced himself to be still and to wait, without words.

“Make that sound,” Edward whispered hoarse and harsh.

Sound? Oh yes, that noise. That rumbling Roy could never help whenever sad, gold eyes where on him, when words were only salt on open wounds, no matter how gentle or how softly they were delivered. He took a deep breath and found he had no difficulty in remembering or releasing it. Edward’s fingers dug into his chest, painfully over the bruise they’d left there earlier, but Edward could have that; he could have whatever he wanted. Edward drew painful breaths and kept moving and shifting, his pain was mobile and seeking. It was becoming too much for Roy as well and he rolled to face Edward, circling him in his arms, pulling him hard against his body. He held on tight as the form against him writhed in torment of his emotion’s own making. Roy moved his hand up, fisted it in blonde hair and pressed Edward’s forehead to the base of his throat. Edward thrust his automail leg between Roy’s and hooked it there, his flesh hand moved under Roy’s arm, up his back and hooked over his shoulder.

It’s all right Edward, give in and let it out before you drown.

Roy endured the attempts to have his flesh molded with his lover’s and finally, in their honest and raw fashion, the sobs came. They continued for a while, the small body shaking with each exclamation of sorrow wrung from it and half formed words hung like a low miasma just above the bed. Roy’s pajama top and bare neck were bathed in grief and Roy clutched tighter, knowing it was probably painful but cravingly welcomed. When only hollow gasps and heavy breathing kept company between them, the General spoke.

“You need to get some sleep, Ed,” he said, forcing reason over comfort. “You have class in the morning.”

“Why did you take him away,” barely audible and choked, “you should have made him stay. I hate you,” the General was informed.

“You hate me all the time,” the General informed him, tone still seeking calm in the sea of emotion that Edward wanted to drown him in, “but he can’t afford to. Go to sleep, Ed.”

It wasn’t until sometime later that the grip in his pajama top slackened, but not enough to lose its clinging hold. The General closed his eye at last and tried to follow his lover under.

***

Edward was already up and out of bed when the alarm clock went off on Roy’s side of the bed. Roy fumbled with it, shutting it off and lying for a moment or two. He tried vainly to somehow will his lost sleep to catch up with him before he got out of bed, but it was not to be. He sat up and threw the covers back, swinging his feet off the side of the bed and stepping down into his house shoes.

He saw the light under the bathroom door and headed for it, pausing to listen before putting his hand against it and pressing. It hadn’t been shut all the way and swung back with a slight creak.

Edward was standing at the vanity, hands balled into fists on its surface and his head down, leaning over the wash basin. He could no longer hide in his bangs, but his loose hair was trailing over his shoulders and down his back. Roy moved to his side silently, got down the shaving mug and powder, leaned around Ed for a moment to turn on the tap and then worked the powder into lather with the brush in the mug.

He reached over and gently took Ed’s chin, raised his face and turned it toward him, using the brush to lather up Ed’s chin, lower cheeks and upper lip. Ed didn’t resist him, didn’t raise his eyes to Roy’s, or try to pull his chin away. Roy released him and applied his own shaving foam, then opened the vanity drawer and took out both of their razors. It was another new thing Edward had come home with, this need to shave. Before, he’d always watched Roy perform the ritual, studying him thoughtfully and closely while he stroked the razor over his face. Edward had done it a time or two himself, before he really needed to do it, just to see what it felt like. Just to have a gleaming of the adult male world.

Edward picked up the razor from the counter and looked at himself in the mirror while thumbing the head of it back and forth with an automail thumb before he raised it and slowly started to shave. Roy watched him as he did tilted his head back and did his under chin first, then he moved to his cheeks and upper chin. With the pad of his thumb on his nose, he tilted his head back again and did his upper lip. That is where he ceased to use Roy’s teachings, for Roy had never shaved his upper lip like that.

Who had taught Ed to shave like that? Roy felt in that moment what Alphonse must feel a hundred fold. Why wouldn’t Ed tell him?

He shouldn’t ponder over it, so he set to shaving his own face as Ed brushed his teeth. He waited for Ed to finish and move to the end of the vanity to brush his hair before he brushed his own teeth. After, he got down his hair tonic, wet his hands with it and ran them over his own head, combing it out and fingering the bangs as he’d done for as long as he could remember. Edward was tying off his ponytail as he finished up, and then brushed by him on his way out of the bathroom.

Roy stopped him, wiped his hands clear of tonic, wet them again with cologne and slapped Edward’s cheeks. This was how they usually exited the bathroom, followed by a kiss. Roy waited and Edward leaned forward then, up on his toes, and pressed his lips to Roy’s. Roy put his arms around him, pulling him against his chest. Their routine didn’t usually go this way, but it was a special circumstance. Roy rumbled and Edward sighed as Roy leaned against the vanity and just held him for a few moments longer.

They went as one back into the bedroom proper. Roy went to the closet, removed his dress shirt and uniform, and laid them on the bed. Then he went back for Edward’s dress shirt, vest and pants, laying them on the bed as well. Edward put out clean linens and socks for them both and they pulled out of their sleepwear and into their working wear.

***

Roy helped Edward with his suit jacket and then in the hall he helped him with his winter coat. He’d taken care of R.D. beforehand and the little dog was dancing at their feet, whining softly. R.D. was smart and knew the routine, but it didn’t mean he liked to be alone all day.

Roy went first to warm up the car while Ed checked to make sure he had everything in his briefcase. He kept R.D. back with his foot as he exited the house and locked the door. He then hurried down the walk to the waiting automobile and climbed in.

***

Edward looked up at the unscheduled stop and then over at Roy as he parked.

“It won’t take a moment and this way I’ll know you at least ate something today,” the General said before getting out of the car heading into the small bakery at the edge of town that they sometimes went to on Sunday mornings for hot rolls and coffee. The General returned and handed over a small paper cup that was warm in Ed’s flesh hand and fished out of the paper bag a berry-stuffed muffin. He pulled the paper wrapper off the bottom and broke the muffin in half before setting it in a napkin and putting it in Ed’s lap.

“What is this?” Ed said softly, “Why are you treating me like I’m three?”

Roy just overlooked the remark and cranked the car, putting it into gear and navigating them back out onto the road. He said nothing at all, merely pointing them in the direction of the city and pressing the pedal with his foot.

By the time they pulled into the headquarters complex, the napkin held only crumbs and the paper cup was empty.

***

 _This isn’t fair to my boys. I cannot do this to them._ Ed stood in the doorway of the classroom. He was early, no students had arrived yet; the halls were quiet and empty.

He looked at the empty desks, the smooth, gray walls and his own desk at the front of the class framed by a large blackboard bolted to the walls. It was like a big box, why had he not noticed before? He had to do something with it. How could he be expected to stimulate his students if they sat in this plain, gray box day in and day out?

He couldn’t take it today, being inside this thing. He put his hand on the doorjamb as if to prevent himself from entering the room, even though he knew he must. The room’s only good feature was across the far wall: six large rectangular windows that opened out to the back of the school and soccer field. The back parking lot could also be seen; that expanse of concrete that not many a car ever sat upon. When someone did park back there, he’d find the some of the boys at the window, speculating on car make and ownership.

His own eyes strayed to the lot and the greenery around it.

 _I don’t need you either!_

He shouldn’t be thinking about that right now, he couldn’t think about it. He wasn’t allowed to think about it until he got in the car to go home that evening. He’d promised Roy, he’d promised himself and he was now promising the boys.

He took a breath, walked in to his desk and stood beside it. He suddenly opened the top drawer and fished out his supply cabinet key, walked to the cabinet, opened it, took out a box of chalk and pocketed it before closing and locking the cabinet again.

He heard a noise and looked back to see one of the boys coming in and heading for his desk near the back of the room. It was Thomas Pine, called Tom, and he was always in first because his father worked for the Academy maintenance department. The man had introduced himself in the hall, snatching off his cap and shaking Ed’s hand like he was meeting the prime minister. He told Ed how much Tom liked his class, how much he was learning and how proud he was of his son. Tom could be an alchemist and maybe work for the state, not be a glorified janitor like his old man.

That was the day Ed really understood what the job was going to mean to him.

“Morning Tom,” he said and raised his hand to the boy.

“Morning Professor,” the boy smiled and raised his hand back.

He would give Tom the chance to be an alchemist. He had made mistakes at an early age; here he could try to make sure something like that never happened to any child again.

***

Everyone was told to keep their coats on. They formed a line and followed the Professor down the hall, out the door and around to the back lot; there were no cars parked there today. The Professor made them stand side by side along the back part of the lot. He took a box of chalk out of his pocket and marched down the line handing it out. Near the end he started to run out, so some of them had to break their chalk in half. Then he returned to stand in front of them, hands on hips. He knelt down on the ground and sat on his knees, making a motion with his hand for them to do the same, and they all sank to their knees in the cold on the hard concrete of the parking lot.

“Today,” the Professor said, resting his hands on his knees and holding his own piece of chalk, “we’re going to draw an array and transmute a toy horse.”

The boys all bounced excitedly and some chatter started up, but the Professor raised an eyebrow and it died down.

“I want you to imagine a toy horse in your mind,” the Professor said, “how its head looks and how its neck is attached to its body. What it’s made of, if it has hinged joints. What color is it? How big is it? What does it feel like when you hold it in your hands?”

The Professor raised his hand and pointed to his eyes and then closed them. Soon the entirety of the class was also in darkness as they all strained to see the details of a toy horse.

“Alright now, got the image and how it’s put together?” the Professor asked.

There were a few tentative nods, but most were firm and eager nods. Fingers twitched and sticks of chalk were rolled restlessly between them.

“Open your eyes,” the Professor told them and they did, blinking to focus, then focusing them on the Professor.

The Professor held up his stick of chalk and the boys did the same. That earned them a slight smile, something they hadn’t seen all morning from the man, which made them relax a bit more.

“Okay, I want you to draw a circle. Its circumference should be about the width of a dinner plate,” Edward knew speaking in exact measurements would be lost on them, yet he knew visuals would be the best way to teach them. He made his own outer circle with well-practiced ease and then waited a moment.

“Now, using your thumb,” he held up his own, “measure in about the length of it and draw an inner circle.” He demonstrated, laying the base of his thumb on the outer circle and then pressing it flat on the concrete, making a chalk mark and drawing the inner circle as easily as the outer. He didn’t need the thumb measure, but once again, the boys would need reference.

He walked them through the rest of it, the large center triangle, the three smaller triangles, the small, thin triangle between the circle rings and the upper tip of the large triangle. It was an array brilliantly perfected. For the beginner, its simple lines were easy to conduct energy through and for the advanced, it was a powerful tool capable of blinding precision. His little brother’s array… how many times had he seen it drawn on paper, in chalk, scratched into dust and dirt and desperation? He wasn’t aware of how long he sat there on his knees, transfixed by his brother’s genius. There was an uncomfortable clearing of throat and he glanced up, puzzled for a moment at this neat line of uniformed boys, sitting on their knees.

 _I can’t do this to them, I promised! Even though they don’t know it!_

“Sorry,” the Professor said. He rose to his feet, indicating for them to do the same. He walked toward them now, passing between Boyd and Gavin to the lawn just beyond the curb of the lot. He clapped his hands and knelt, slapping them to the ground. The ground shuddered and erupted in a small upheaval, making a mound of fresh dirt. The Professor stood again and dusted off his gloved hands.

“Everyone get a double handful of dirt and place it in the middle of your array,” he told them, scooping up the first double handful and walking back to his array. He waited until they had all complied, then he started at the end of the line, walking slowly, head down, studying each array he passed. Only twice did he bend down to smudge out a line with his fingers and make quick chalk strokes to correct the array, showing each boy where the flaw was and how to correct it.

With that done, he returned to his own array and knelt. The boys followed suit, all eyes riveted on him, all breaths held.

But then the Professor sat back on his butt and he crossed his legs Indian style, watching them. Slowly, one by one, the boys followed suit. They were young enough to be comfortable anywhere, even on the cold concrete of a parking lot behind the academy.

“Tell me why you want to be an alchemist,” the Professor said, “I really want to know.”

Several heads turn to their neighbor; there was general fidgeting and changing of positions. Then a hand shot into the air and Edward smiled at the class motivator as he nodded toward Seth. The boy reached up to reflexively straighten his glasses, his method of gathering the courage to speak. “I want to be an alchemist because alchemists are important people who can do important things.”

Many others followed, Edward nodding at each hand raised. Because it was ‘cool’, _(he surmised that everything important was cool when you where thirteen, why hadn’t he known that? Oh wait, Roy had been grudgingly cool then)_ , because it was power, for their father, mother, or other family member; to make things easier, to build buildings, to be a state alchemist and an officer.

To help people.

The Professor pointed at Tom Pine after he said it. “That is why I did it, too.”

 _To help my mother (but it was no help, it was only pain), and to help my brother, (whose pain was my fault to begin with)_

But inadvertently along the way, because he could clap his hands and make things happen, he helped others, too. It wasn’t his original intent, but it was appreciated all the same. He was never quite sure what to make of his popularity at first, because it all came so easily to him that it almost felt like a cheat. Later of course, he learned to use it as he learned to use all things. It was never a hindrance once he’d mastered fame.

Many of the boys were looking at Tom now, who looked self-conscious and huddled in on himself a bit. He remembered another young boy, younger than Tom, huddled with his fists on his knees and his eyes uncertain on his elder brother, with an array to bring back happiness.

But emotions are not arrays, because arrays are science.

 _I will tell him, if he will let me. I will tell him everything._

Science is not emotion, because emotions are not logical, but logic was not in Alphonse’s eyes last night. There was only pain that he, his elder brother, had once again delivered.

 _I am a fool._

Roy was right; Alphonse’s void was not absolution. Alphonse’s forgiveness _was_. He could not forgive Edward unless he _remembered_ Edward.

“How do you make drawing a circle like that look so easy,” one of the brave fellows in the line up before the silent Professor with the drawn face finally asked.

He shook himself free. He could fix this. He could make it all right again with his brother.

“Because I’ve drawn a million of the damn things,” the Professor drawled, whatever haunting his face those few moments earlier, fleeing. “I could draw them in my sleep. I’ve drawn them, sight unseen, upside down with my hands tied behind my back.”

“No way,” Richard Timbers challenged.

The Professor put his hands behind his back and leaned back enough so the chalk could touch the concrete behind him. He started to draw, and stopped a moment, turning the array upside down in his mind.

 _Damn I’m out of practice, they will rib me to death if I don’t do this right!_

Twenty-three pairs of eyes watched for any sign of weakness, especially Daniel’s eyes. That boy was a pride and a thorn in one, but he felt fairly certain what he drew would work if activated. He spread his arms and grinned in triumph as Richard jumped up and ran over to look behind his back. He gave a low whistle.

“Professor,” he said, “you rule.”

“Rule what?” the Professor asked.

***

 _Listen to ME_

Alphonse shut his eyes tight, the sway of the train jarring him against the passenger car wall.

 _Pretending you don’t hear me isn’t going to work,_ Al snarled, _Running away isn’t either! How can you leave him like that? How could you say those things! You need him as much as I ever did! You need him MORE! I really wish now that brother had gotten a better bargain on his six years! I’m ashamed to be your possible psychiatric hospital commitment now!_

 _You heard him, too! He doesn’t want to share anything with us! Why are you defending him,_ Alphonse cried, _He’s denying you too!_

 _No he’s not, he’s protecting you! Maybe he’s a little ashamed and afraid to tell you what happened, it’s not exactly pretty, you know,_ Al said exasperated. _I could show you if you would quit blocking me. You know, I think I’m starting to figure you out. It’s taken awhile because we are too much alike, but I have some observations on you,_ the armor said.

 _Oh do tell,_ Alphonse sneered, _it’s not like I can stop you now, is it?_

 _I’m starting to work out that somehow in this last six years, we’ve turned into a fact gathering, logical stagnation._ Al said. Alphonse gasped and then shut his mouth quickly.

 _We are too busy looking for the reason for the circumstance to see the circumstance itself. We have managed, no wait, YOU have managed, to become clinical to the point of a negative sphincter factor in every way shape and form. Even your crush on Colonel Hawkeye is measured in absolutes,_ the armor put its hands on its hips. _No wonder I had to wade though mountains of cranial monotony to ever get to the surface. It’s a wonder we can interact with society at all!_

Alphonse just gaped at the empty seat across from him.

 _You are all about facts and nothing about commitment,_ Al said.

 _What are you talking about?_ Alphonse cried, scrabbling desperately for equilibrium, _I am committed to everything!_

 _It’s not brother who is the control freak, it’s YOU,_ Al snorted, _You are organized to the point of anal supremacy. You categorize your sock drawer! I can’t believe we spent fifteen minutes comparing shades of black! You sort your mail as if it were high explosives waiting to go off at one wrong move! You line your pencils up and make sure they are all the same length! There is commitment and then there is the way you do it,_ Al windmilled his arms.

 _I’ve never met anyone who actually thought of an array to make freckles symmetrical, but YOU did! Our brother is hurting! You did that to him, not me! And you want to know why? Because you want all the facts and none of the burden! That’s right, you want the science and not the heart and that is just wrong,_ Al said. _That is why you’ve pretended I don’t exist, that is why you have shut me off from showing you anything that matters, that is why you can do that to Brother when you know why he’s not telling you anything! He doesn’t have to tell you anything!_ Al cried.

Alphonse shut his eyes tight, slouching down hard in the seat.

 _You already know everything, but you’re scared! You’re scared,_ Al said, _and I understand that. You didn’t have Brother at your side, you didn’t have brother there to try and make things right. You had you and the Colonel, but that’s not the same as having someone who shared everything with you, heart and soul. You missed out and I’m really sorry, really I am. You needed brother too, and you have the chance now, I don’t know why you won’t take it._

Alphonse felt the hot trail of wetness down his cheek and opened his eyes slowly to the armor that sat across from him on the bench, its hands on its knees, watching him intently.

“I’m jealous,” Alphonse said, “of myself.”

 _There is no reason to be,_ Al said. _It hurts but we lived through it once already, we know what to expect._

“Will I ever have any say at all, ever again?” Alphonse asked.

 _We won’t be like this anymore,_ Al said, _We’ll be singular, not plural._

“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” Alphonse apologized, “I really didn’t, I do love him.”

 _I know,_ Al said. _He was going about it all the wrong way as usual, don’t beat yourself up over it too much. He’s just like that, here to make our lives complex._

Alphonse had to smile despite himself.

“I want what you and he had,” Alphonse said.

The armor held out its hands.

***

She’d tried to politely ignore the young man muttering to himself at the back of the car. She sincerely thought it was really none of her business and that he must have a lot on his mind to be talking to himself like that, even to changing his pitch and his tone, almost as if he were trying to be two people.

All right, it was a little unnerving. At least there were a few other people in the car with them, so if he got up and started making trouble she wouldn’t have to deal with him alone. She had been trying to concentrate on the book in her lap when she glanced up at him again, this time because he had gone silent and she wondered if he’d finally gone to sleep, but instead he was staring at the empty seat in front of him. He suddenly raised his arms, hands out flat and palms down, he stretched them to the empty seat and lowered them, looking for all the world like he saw someone there he was giving his hands to.

Then he seemed to convulse. His head threw back to strike the seat behind him sharply and he abruptly slumped to the side, falling over on the seat and rolling to the floor. She jumped up and ran to get the conductor as the other passengers around her gaped.

***

“On your knees,” the Professor crowed, getting back onto his own. The boys all immediately copied him.

“Listen up,” he commanded, “don’t expect to get it on your first try. Hell, don’t even expect to transmute on your first try. Don’t worry if it looks wonky, don’t worry if it falls apart and don’t seize up in the middle of your transmutation and get a face full of dirt. I’ve done it before, no fun. Take a deep breath,” he told them.

The all took one and they all held it.

“Reach inside yourself, find that place in you that is the _will_ to turn dirt into art,” he instructed. “Remember how your horse is constructed,” he reminded.

“When you put your hands on your circle you’re going to push your will into the array, you are going to make the array obey your command,” he said. “Don’t be coy, don’t be shy, show it who is the boss,” he grinned.

He held his hands straight up above his head and laughed when they all followed suit, some of them starting to turn a little blue.

“Breathe, it’s alchemy, not brain surgery,” he told them, not trying to stop the grin, “now…TRANSMUTE!” he slammed his hand down on the circle. The sound of flesh on stone sounded down the line before him. White and blue and green and purple and every color a boy could think of leapt from the multitude of small arrays. The air charged and crackled with ozone, the smell assaulted their nostrils and clung to their clothes. Static made frizzy mops of well-combed hair, cracks and pops mingled with excited shouts and cries.

Twenty-three young minds driven by one man, intent on making their dreams come true, carried on the back of a toy horse.

 

**

 

He rolled over and sighed, blinked his eyes open and squinted at the brightness. What time was it? When did the train get in? Why didn’t he remember getting home?

“Lieutenant Colonel?” a voice asked softly.

He turned his head, squinting and lifting his eyebrows in surprise. A young woman in uniform smiled at him.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

He knew her, Second Lieutenant Margaret Cape, she worked in the infirmary, but why was she here? Were they dating? Oh no… did he get lucky and not remember it? He blinked his eyes open further and took in the white walls and overhead lamps. No he was in the infirmary. Did he get lucky in the infirmary?

“Becky, call up to Colonel Hawkeye’s office, let her know he’s awake,” Lieutenant Cape said to someone across the room.

“Why am I here?” Al said groggily.

“You collapsed on the train, sir. They brought you in by car from the emergency stop the train made,” she said. “How is your head?”

“It’s fine,” Al mumbled, “I just feel a little drained is all.” He shifted up in the pillows and worked to push himself into a sitting position. Lieutenant Cape helped him sit up and then went to get him a glass of water. Al rubbed his face and looked around. Besides him, there was one other occupant of the infirmary, but they had a curtain around their bed, probably sleeping.

He wasn’t sure why he was here, but frankly he wasn’t too worried at the moment. He was in some sort of blissful suspension, some strange place that made him feel light and whole. He wasn’t one to mess with something that wasn’t broken. The door to the infirmary opened and the Colonel came in, trailed by First Lieutenant Pharr. Her face took on a look of relief to see him sitting up in the bed and that made him feel warm and happy. Pharr broke into a big grin and Al grinned back.

“Good to see you awake, Lieutenant Colonel,” the Colonel said, “you had us a bit worried.”

“What is with falling over on train benches and smacking your head on the floor,” Pharr teased gently. “You should get more sleep.”

“I don’t know what happened,” Al said, “the last I remember…” he trailed off.

 _Don’t go, please let me try to explain!_

 _I don’t need you either!_

 _I’d take all this pain from both of you if I could._

“I need to call brother,” Al said faintly.

“Alphonse?” the Colonel said, she always called him Alphonse when she was being other than his commanding officer. He raised his eyes to her. She was still so beautiful. When he would come into the office with brother, she was always the first person he sought out.

“I really need to call him,” Al said again, “he’ll be worried, and the… General, I need to speak to him, too.”

“Is everything alright? I distinctly remember your leave was for two weeks, yet here you are back before the first week is out,” the Colonel said.

“Everything is fine,” Al said. “I remember everything.”

***

They sat in a big huddle on the grass. Of the twenty-three attempts, twelve of the horses survived. Thirteen if you counted the Professor’s.

The Professor was critically surveying each horse. Their misshapen heads, their crooked legs and their questionable construction, he was also grinning ear to ear.

“You lot did amazingly well,” he said, looking at the assembled faces. “Even the horses that were half formed or crumbled right away, you still transmuted them. You ALL transmuted on your first try, that’s an accomplishment.”

The boys all shifted and grinned and ducked their heads, pleased that their professor was happy.

“Did you transmute on your very first try?” Seth asked, eager for knowledge for the archive.

“No,” the Professor said, “I got a face full of dirt,” and he grinned.

“Whose is best?” Bernard asked.

The Professor rubbed his chin, looked at the offerings and picked up one that could stand by itself and had a fairly normal head. He stood it in his palm and looked at the crowd.

“This one, who made it,” he asked.

Boyd Harding shyly raised his hand from the back of the group, cheeks flushed and small pleased smile.

“Boyd wins!” the Professor said and everyone cheered.

Edward was ecstatic, his jock could transmute.

***

The bell cut their revelry short and they all jumped up, rushing for the doors with the Professor in the lead. They pelted down the hall much to the startled stares of the other students leaving their classrooms to head for their next lesson.

The Professor got the door open, held it and directed the mad rush of boys in, watching them grab their packs and satchels and lunches.

“Read chapter fourteen,” he yelled to the mass of bodies all trying to get out the door at once, “and everyone gets a passing grade today,” he yelled after them as they rushed down the hall.

He watched until they blended in with the other students in the hall, then pulled back into the room, shut the door and put his hands on his hips. He surveyed his empty classroom for a moment or two and then threw his arms in the air.

“I can teach!” he yelled to no one in particular.

***

The Colonel was sitting beside his bed in a chair that Lieutenant Pharr had fetched for her. Pharr stood at the end of the bed, hands folded behind his back, smiling.

“I met you when I was eleven and twelve,” Al said. “But the first time I was eleven. Brother and I had stopped the man on the train who was going to hold General Hakuro hostage in a prisoner exchange,” Al screwed up his face, “I don’t remember his name at the moment, but he had an automail arm like brother.”

“His name was Bard,” the Colonel supplied.

“Right,” Al said grinning, “that was it. We met Falman and Lieutenant Colonel Hughes on that trip too,” Al smiled a little sadly. “I’m able to miss him now,” he said.

“We all miss him,” the Colonel said. “What about the second time you met me for the first time?” she prodded softly.

“That was after brother disappeared,” Al said, “and I’d finished my training with teacher.” Al gave another sad smile. “She passed away not long after I came back here.”

The Colonel nodded.

“The General was a Major General then, but he helped me with the entrance exam, he sponsored me,” Al said. He then smiled broadly. “He really took me in, I mean, he was always nice to me, but I thought it was because of brother. It was because of me, wasn’t it?”

“The General is very fond of you,” the Colonel said with her slight smile.

“I’m really fond of him too, and he’s a great Pirate,” Al grinned, “I like that nickname.”

Pharr grinned at the Colonel and winked.

“He likes it too,” the Colonel looked over at Pharr. “If you don’t mind First Lieutenant, could you be persuaded to go and get us some dinner? Not the mess hall, this calls for something special.”

“Noodles,” Al appealed with his eyes.

“I’d be honored, Colonel. Noodles it is,” Pharr grinned. “I know just the place.”

“Meat sauce,” Al sucked in his bottom lip.

“I’m very familiar with your eating habits, sir,” Pharr grinned, “as we frequent Brio’s every Wednesday night,” he winked.

“Yes,” Al said and pointed, “and you set me up with girls!”

The Colonel looked off to the side a moment, the corner of her mouth quirking up and Pharr just outright laughed. He then saluted the both of them.

“Celebratory dinner on me,” he said cheerfully and took his leave.

***

Edward slid into the car, dumping his briefcase on the floor and grabbing the seat belt to hook it up. He looked windblown and chafed a bit in the cheeks, and he reached up to rub his right shoulder as he rolled them.

Then he did the most amazing thing. He looked at Roy and grinned.

Roy blinked. He hadn’t thought to be seeing that for a while. He opened his mouth to speak, but Edward beat him to it.

“They all transmuted, Roy. All of them,” he gushed excitedly. “Every last one of them on their first attempt, I couldn’t believe it! It was just clay horses, but some of them were actually horse shaped and could stand up on their own. I taught them Al’s basic array and they all did it. Guess what? My football player made the best one. I couldn’t believe it, they are all studying and doing what I tell them to do.” Edward was practically bouncing in his seat and Roy couldn’t help his own grin, he pulled the car away from the curb.

“I’m going to fix things with Al,” Edward said then. “I’m going to tell him whatever he wants to know, nothing held back.” He looked over at Roy then.

“You know I support you,” the General said. “You don’t know how glad I am to hear you reach that decision. I don’t know why I ever doubt you, you always come around.”

“I thought about what you said, about absolution,” Edward was more subdued now. “Why is it you can say the most painful things to me and then they make sense? I’d really like you to teach me that form of verbal alchemy, because it’s simply astonishing.”

Roy looked at him and winked and Edward snorted and rolled his shoulders again.

“Which brings up another point,” Edward said. “I doubt Al is going to talk to me willingly, so please help me spring a trap.”

“I am your creature,” the General said with a laugh. “I will gladly pillage and plunder and ensnare at your command,” he gave a slight bow of his head.

“Well it will be easy,” Ed said. “All you have to do is get him on the phone.”

“That I can do for you, my master,” the General grinned.

“I like this master thing, let’s try it in bed,” the blonde laughed.

“We already have, any time you want to climb on top,” the General snorted as he made the turn for the thoroughfare.

There was a class in a military academy where a former state alchemist taught. They had managed to do in one hour what it would normally take the General days, if not weeks, to do. They had lifted Edward’s spirit from the floor.

The General owed them his thanks.

***

Al was alone with the Colonel; this made him both pleased and nervous. He was both new and used to the feeling this way and it was a little disconcerting. She was regarding him with her slight smile and calling him Alphonse, this made him absurdly pleased and he felt a stirring. He then felt panic over the stirring because it wasn’t the sort of stirring he should be having with her sitting right there beside him in a chair. He cast about for something to distract himself with, a new, yet old random memory to throw out and turn his thoughts and conversation from this feeling in the pit of his stomach that was planning a campaign for regions lower.

“Alphonse, is something wrong?” she asked, one brow lifting slightly.

He tried to school his expression and just plunged ahead and opened his mouth.

“Hey,” he said feebly, “did the Colonel really have V.D. that time? It’s escaping me,” he gave a shaky smile, realized what he’d just asked and covered his face with his hands. Doomed, he was doomed.

He heard her laugh. It was a lovely sound, breathless for a moment, but not smothered. He dared to peek at her through his fingers and he went breathless himself at the sight of the smile. Not her usual, slight, companionable offering, but a genuine smile. He caught a glimpse of her teeth and she wrinkled her nose just a touch. It brought a bit of color to her cheeks and her eyes crinkled at the edges.

 _I made you laugh._

He lowered his hands slowly, offering his own smile in return and she shook her head at him.

“No Alphonse, he didn’t. If you do remember the culprits, please don’t inform him. That has been a well-guarded secret for many years now. We don’t wish to have the General incarcerated for murder,” she leaned back in the chair and pulled her bottom lip in just slightly, her smile still lingering. “I haven’t thought about that in years,” she said and gave a little sigh.

“I can congratulate you properly on your promotion now,” Al said brightly. “I know you’ll be a Brigadier General soon.”

“I thank you,“ she said, all poise and graciousness. “I would have liked to have made rank before you left my service. The success rate of your missions reflects well on me,” she said and smiled at him again, that wonderful smile.

Al sputtered at this compliment and cursed the heat he felt in his cheeks.

“Colonel, your accomplishments are your own,” he said. “With your good counsel and fact gathering skills, it’s easy to complete assignments for you. You have them half-completed when you hand them over.”

“I assume we could sit around trading compliments all night if we worked at it,” she said, reaching up and unbuttoning the top button of her collar as she crossed her legs, getting comfortable. “Let’s talk about your upcoming birthday. Have you decided what you are going to do when you resign?”

His eyes were glued to her fingers at her throat. He trailed them with his eyes back down to her lap where she laced them with her other hand, but he then realized what he was doing and his eyes flew back to her face where he found her tilting her head a bit, looking questioning. She had asked him something. She had asked him something and he hadn’t heard a word because she had been unbuttoning the top button of her uniform jacket.

“Uh…” he said intelligently.

“Are you still considering your own business?” she prompted kindly.

“Yes,” Al said with a rush of relief. “Also working for you, on a contractual basis. That is the plan. Brother isn’t on board yet, but he will be. I’ll just sweet talk him a little and if that fails, I’ll just I’ll sic the General on him. Sometimes it’s almost too easy, the way we can bushwhack him. We really ought to feel more shame.”

She laughed again and Al couldn’t help but laugh along with her. It was a rare occurrence in the days of his youth, when he towered over his life and spoke with echoes. She was so serious then, but it was serious times. Her ease with the situation, sitting with him in the infirmary, sharing his new old life again; it was one of the warmest feelings in his life.

“Thank you,” he said simply. “For always being there, Colonel. For what was then and then what was then again, and what is now,” he bit his lip, “did that make sense?”

“Brilliantly,” she said. “You’re welcome.”

“Maybe I should hire you as my translator,” Al sighed. “Brother is so literal it’s going to be like we are speaking a foreign language until I get all these memories synched,” he frowned. “It’s a very odd sensation having two tens and two elevens and so on.”

“I can only imagine,” the Colonel said. “Are you alright with it?”

“I will be,” Al said and tilted his head to the side. “I have some bones to pick with brother now that I know which bones to snap. I clearly didn’t know quite how to deal with him, I bet he’s in for a shock.”

“He will be happy and yet difficult,” the Colonel said.

“You know him too well,” Al said wryly. “I’ve never known anyone to work harder at being happily miserable in my life.”

She leaned forward then and put her hand on the back of his where it rested on the bed, giving it a fond pat. His stirring was back, all that hard won distraction banished in a light tap on the back of his hand.

“I’ll see about getting you some medals,” she said. “I mean that with the up most sincerity. You’ve always had the patience of a saint and the brother who could drive a saint to murder.”

“As a role model he excelled in teaching me that if we don’t get caught, we won’t get caught,” Al said.

“Truly a man with sterling convictions,” the Colonel said solemnly.

“Who never got convicted,” Al agreed.

When Pharr walked in with dinner, they were laughing again.

***

Dinner was from the deli. R.D. got half a sandwich when Ed’s mouth got busy with the General’s and wasn’t paying attention to his hand hanging off the side of the couch.

“I would so love to carry you to the bathroom,” the General husked, “but if I did, you’d have to carry me to the bedroom and put ointment on my back.”

“The sentiment is appreciated,” his lover growled, “I think I can make it to the bathroom despite the boner.”

The General could give him a hand up off the couch and grope him on the way to the bathroom, however. He in turn could grope the General’s ass when he leaned over to turn on the taps in the tub.

Edward’s sweater was on the floor and Edward’s fingers were working the buttons of Roy’s shirt when the phone rang. They both sighed. There was no more ignoring the phone for sex in their household unless they were actually engaged in sex. The General kissed his lover soundly and hurried to the den, calling over his shoulder to get in the tub, he’d make it quick.

Ed shrugged and stripped and had just started to put his foot in the water when Roy called down the hall, “Wait a minute, get in here, it’s Al!”

Ed wrapped a towel around his waist and came running to the den, where the General smiled at him and held out the phone. He took the receiver with a bit of trepidation, but Roy’s smile was reassuring and he put it to his ear.

“Al,” Ed started immediately, “I’m so sorry, I’m really so sorry. You were right and I was being selfish, but I swear to you it wasn’t about control! I wanted…”

“Brother, brother, brother,” Al kept interjecting, “brother, it’s okay!”

“No, it’s not okay,” Ed pressed on, “I wasn’t thinking. I know you’re going to say ‘Like usual’, but I really thought I was doing you a favor. I see now that it wasn’t much of a favor and I’m not asking you to understand why I did it…”

“Brother, brother, brother,” Al tried again. “BROTHER!”

Ed winched a little and squinting up one eye, glanced at Roy.

“Did that get your attention? Good,” Al said. “When we went to Risembool to get Winry to repair your arm after the dark man, whose name escapes me, destroyed your arm? You let Major Armstrong put me in the cattle car… wait… it was sheep.”

Ed blinked for a moment, furrowed his brows, then smoothed them.

“That wasn’t my fault,” he cried, now that he remembered what Al was on about, “he said it was cheaper and he already had you loaded on the train. I wanted to come back to there with you!”

“Not only that,” Al continued, “when I got put off the train by accident, you didn’t even notice!”

“I’m sorry! I noticed, but Armstrong wouldn’t let me jump off the train because it was moving! I really wanted to, he made me wait until the next stop and by the time we got back, you’d been pilfered! There are really a lot of dishonest people out in those parts, I was really appalled.” Edward put his hand on his hip and his towel sagged low; the General appreciated the crest of his butt cheeks.

“I’m just amazed I got my body back at all,” Al said, “seeing as how the other one got so little regard from you,” he sniffed.

“Now wait just a minute,” Edward scowled, “how can you…” he stopped, he looked slowly up at Roy, his eyes widening.

“At least you got all the parts,” Al said when Ed went silent.

“AL,” Ed shrieked and bounced in place. “You _remember_!”

“Took you long enough,” his little brother said wryly over the phone.

Roy appreciated the towel pooled on floor around Edward’s feet even more after the bounce.

***

Edward was naked, but wrapped in blankets and stuffed into Roy’s desk chair with the heating pad over his shoulder. He’d been there for almost two hours and Roy was asleep on the den couch by the window.

He was whispering things in the dimness of the room with his little brother. They had always shared things in the dark; it’s just now his eyes were trained on the figured curled up on a couch, waiting for him.

They were about talked-out anyway and Al was taking the train back to Central as soon as he could, which meant two days, possibly three at most and his brother would be back.

“I should go,” Ed whispered, “Roy’s asleep on the den couch. He’ll get a crick in his neck.”

“Okay,” Al whispered back, “we’ll go over more when I get there. You aren’t off the hook yet just because my subconscious decided to mug me.”

“I have no doubt,” Ed grinned, “whatever you want Al, just ask, it’s yours.”

“I just want my brother,” Al said, “and I’ve got that. Goodnight Ed.”

“Night Al,” Ed said, and waited to hear the click on the other end before he hung up the phone.

Roy blinked his eyes open and looked at Ed, unfocused a moment, before yawning. R.D. hopped down from the end of the couch where he’d been sleeping by Roy’s feet and did an impatient dance as Roy sat up and scratched his head, grumbling at the little dog.

“Go on to bed, I’ll take R.D. out and be in shortly,” Roy leveled himself up off the couch. “Was it a good talk?”

Ed nodded and stepped forward to lean against him for a long moment. Roy stroked his blanket covered back.

“Go on, you’ll get cold and your shoulder is bothering you. R.D.’s going to burst if I don’t take him out,” Roy coaxed. Edward stepped back and let Roy precede him out of the den.

“I know, I know,” the General was telling the black and white jumping bean, “you would let me get your leash on if you had to go out that badly.”

Edward watched for a moment before heading to the bedroom. He stood by his side of the bed for a long moment before just climbing in, blankets a fair trade for pajamas, he figured. He pushed under the heavy comforter and nuzzled into his pillow.

Sometimes, every now and again, life cut him a break.

The General and R.D. reappeared not long after and the General began to undress for the night. He started for his dresser to get his pajamas.

“Sleep naked,” a soft voice whispered behind him. He smiled then, turned around, went over and climbed onto the bed.

“Oh wait,” the voice whispered again, “got get my automail socks out of the bathroom.”

Not quite the mood killer it could have been, considering Roy didn’t want to cuddle with cold automail. He hurried on his errand and returned, climbing up onto the bed, shoving under the covers and assisting in getting the socks into place.

“I’ll be glad when winter is over,” Ed grumbled, letting Roy tie off the tie on the shoulder. He scowled at R.D. turning circles at the foot of the bed, but Roy’s voice brought his gaze back to the man.

“I don’t know,“ the General said, scooting into Ed’s blanket cocoon with him, “I rather like being buried under piles of blankets with you.”

“There is that,” Ed’s voice dropped a bit when Roy’s bare stomach rubbed against his. They were lying face to face and Ed lifted his automail leg, draping it over Roy’s upturned hip. Roy smiled at him, leaned forward to take his mouth and ran his hand down Edward’s stomach, pushing his fingers into blonde curls and over Edward’s cock, fingers wrapping around it.

Edward groaned and returned the favor, his flesh and seeking and finding Roy, already half hard. For a while, this lazy stroke of fingers and thrusts of tongue is all either of them wanted. Ed was very compliant when Roy finally tugged his hand away and pushed on his shoulder to roll him onto his back.

The only thing Roy had on Edward was height. Edward was broader, heavier and more defined. His body was still toned even though his days of endless chase were over and Roy took the time to trace his fingertips down Edward’s chest, onto the flat of his stomach.

“Leave my belly button alone,” his lover griped and the General snickered. Roy scooted down on the bed and began to trail is lips along the path his fingertips had forged. Edward was the definition of arousal for him. He stretched as Roy kissed him, opening his legs wider and sighing heavily. Roy rested his cheek on Edward’s stomach; he had pushed the blankets down, and was fingering a blonde curl to one side of Edward’s erection. Edward’s stomach quivered under him and he blonde shifted again, automail hand stroking lightly over Roy’s head, down the back of his neck and over his shoulder. It was cool through the sock, but not uncomfortably so, and actually felt rather good on Roy’s skin.

“What are you doing down there?” Edward murmured, drawing lazy circles with an automail finger on Roy’s shoulder.

“Savoring,” the General husked. He let his fingertips brush down the side of Ed’s cock and then cupped his balls. He stroked the pad of his thumb over them, as he trapped them and pressed them upwards. Edward rewarded him with a moan.

“Damn you are a sexy beast,” the General husked. “Male and erotic,” the General turned and dragged his tongue over Ed’s stomach. It jumped and quivered. “Your voice is such a turn on when it gets strained and husky,” the General told him, “your scent is musky and metallic. You’re still so solid, even if all you do is browbeat a bunch of thirteen year olds into transmuting toy horses all day. These damn blonde curls,” the General stuck his nose in them briefly and inhaled deeply, “drive me batshit.”

“Fuck,” Edward whined and arched his hips, “you trying to talk me into cumming? It might work,” he panted.

“I thought it might be a pleasant change of pace, although it is phenomenally hard to keep my hands and mouth off of you,” Roy kissed a slow trail from just below Ed’s navel to the edge of his curls.

“Do both,” Ed encouraged with a whine.

Roy kissed along the edge of the curls the top of the thigh closest to him. He opened his mouth and slid it down, then pulled Ed’s legs wider and trailed his tongue over the soft inner thigh.

Ed hitched in a deep breath and arched his back, pressing his head back into the pillow. Roy’s lips left his inner thigh; there was a broad tongue sweep across his cock, then down and over his balls. Ed fisted his hand in the comforter and pulled hard, it came untucked from the bottom of the bed and when it moved upwards, it slide R.D. into Roy’s side. The puppy’s cold, wet nose poked him there and he jumped and leaned up.

“What?” Ed cried, “What’s wrong?”

“You pulled R.D. onto me and his nose is cold,” Roy chuckled. Ed lifted his head, he’d forgotten about the dog.

“Put him out,” Ed said, pushing up on his elbows and flipping the covers over himself. Roy blinked.

“What are you doing,” Roy suddenly laughed, “R.D. doesn’t care if you’re naked!”

Ed turned red, scowled and shifted a bit.

“I can’t do it if he’s watching,” he finally mumbled.

Roy gaped up at him, then started laughing harder.

“You’re not serious,” he got out between bouts of hilarity. “He’s just a dog, who’s he gonna tell,” and the General got choked then in snorting giggles.

“I know,” Ed growled, embarrassed. “I just can’t… it’s like a kid watching.”

Roy howled in laughter, leaned down and pressed his forehead to Ed’s stomach, body shaking.

“You are such a bastard,” Ed hissed. “Now put him out before I get soft.”

Roy got up, tried to speak but couldn’t for the snickering, scooped R.D. up, deposited him in the hall and closed the door.

“Our son is in the hall, can we please have sex now,” Roy got out before finding himself just too hilarious and collapsing over on the bed, laughing hard. Ed shot him a bird with each hand.

Roy grabbed the blankets, jerked them off of Ed’s body and leaned down. He took a deep breath, puffed his cheeks and blew a raspberry right into Ed’s navel. Now Ed was howling in laughter and in the hall R.D. joined them for a few moments.

“Bastard, shit General,” Ed sobbed, “I’m so fucking horny I could die and you want to be a comedian. I was fuckin’ getting off on your goddamn sweet talk,” the blonde sniffled.

“Wasn’t sweet talk. Okay, it was,” the General grinned and dropped several kisses on Ed’s stomach. “I’m sorry, beautiful.”

“Don’t call me that,” Ed huffed, “I like sexy beast better.”

Roy growled then, a very deep sound and Edward answered with an equally deep groan. He arched his back and his lover’s mouth took the head of his cock. A tongue dragged over the slit and then he was engulfed in warm, wet heat. Damn, Roy could give a blowjob. The right amount of pressure, the tongue press to the roof of his mouth, the alternate deep throat with shallower, quicker pulls. He allowed Ed to thrust up, going up on his elbows to accommodate and regulate how far Edward pressed himself inside. He gripped Ed’s balls, rolling them in his palm and pressing them in rhythm to his suction.

Edward talked to him, deep growled encouragement, high-pitched obscenities and his name bantered. It was Edward’s habit not to call on any ethereal higher being; he just made Roy the substitute for it. He pulled off completely the first time Edward climbed close enough to release and Edward cursed him roundly and damned his parentage. In punishment, the General mouthed his balls and inner thighs, ignoring his weeping cock.

“Nonono,” Edward sobbed. “Damn you!” He shifted his hips all around, making it difficult to do anything properly, so Roy just leaned up on his elbows and let him writhe for a moment. When he realized Roy wasn’t touching him, he whined and sucked his lower lip, giving the most gorgeous, pitiful look.

Roy leaned over and kissed his cock and Ed trembled, trying to hold still but to no avail.

“What do you want?” Ed wailed. “You know I’ll do it! I’ll let you call me mare this time, PLEASE ROY,” he sobbed.

Roy grinned and took him in again and Edward thanked him by coming within the first five seconds. Roy rolled him around in his mouth for a moment or two longer, then sat up and got the oil bottle. Edward watched him with slitted eyes, then threw a pillow down beside his hip and rolled over onto it. Roy opened the bottle, but sat it slowly down on the bedside table, unused for a moment.

“You’re a complete brat,” Roy said with a grin.

“Huh?” Edward said, still climax glazed, he turned his head to look at him.

Roy smacked his upturned ass with a resounding whap and Edward howled in humiliated appreciation as he tried to fuck the pillow into submission.

***

Roy rolled them onto their sides. He hadn’t withdrawn yet and Ed’s reddened backside was pressed against his hips. Edward was limp and drenched, panting raggedly and still moaning lowly over his tender butt cheeks every time Roy shifted a bit and rubbed against them. Roy was equally drenched, also gulping for air and he buried his face in the curve of Edward’s neck, shaking as he tried to regain his composure. It was a while before either could speak.

“That was just fuckin’ hot,” Ed managed first. “I think I like your dirty talk.”

“Thought you said it was sweet talk,” Roy said, muffled against his shoulder.

“No one with a cock like that has anything sweet about them,” Ed groaned and tightened briefly on the part of Roy’s body still inside him.

“Oh god, don’t do that,” Roy gulped and shook, still sensitive after his hard climax. He felt a tremor of dread when he heard a ragged, yet mischievous laugh.

“Ed… AH!” Roy said, arching back too late. Edward tightened down hard and Roy writhed in the limited fashion he could, but couldn’t pull out.

“This is just like dogs,” Ed chortled evilly. “They get stuck like this, who’s the dog of the military now?”

“We are R.D.’s parents after all,” Roy grated out before Edward seemed to vice grip him tighter. He whined and begged for mercy.

But he just couldn’t help himself. He was his own worst enemy, truly.

“In this position,” Roy stammered when he could, “it makes you the bitch.”

Edward snarled and seemed to be able to get into negative ratios when it came to the sphincter factor.

“If you squeeze it off,” Roy gasped, “you’ll have to raise R.D. alone without his father,” Roy thought the lack of blood getting to the brain in his dick was making him delirious. Yes, that must be it. Why would he go to the trouble of infuriating people who could so easily kick his ass if he wasn’t?

Ed was glaring at him over his shoulder.

“You really have a death wish or something tonight,” he rasped out.

“They do call this the ‘little death’,” Roy managed to wheeze.

Edward’s expression turned into a smirk.

“Well,” he said, evil glint in his eye, “I think I’m feeling a little homicidal now.”

He suddenly moved forward a bit and then back into Roy, his butt hitting the General in the stomach. Roy let out a little whoosh of breath and then a ragged moan.

“Fuck,” Ed said. “I think I might be a serial killer, in fact,” he groaned and began to move himself steadily, listening to the pathetic cries of his victim and enjoying the writhing of his death throes against his back.


	8. Chapter 8

“Falman,” Havoc threw his arms out and grinned at the man sitting with a stack of folders at the big table.

“Lieutenant Colonel,” Falman replied evenly.

Havoc sauntered over and sat down opposite the man, grinning charmingly.

“So tell me, you wouldn’t happen to be free Saturday night by any chance?” Havoc smiled. “I mean, a guy like you must be up to his armpits in dates, so I know this is a long shot at best.”

 _Butter him up first._

Breda, who was also sitting at the big table, looked up slowly and fixed Havoc with his eyes. The corner of his mouth pulled up just slightly.

Havoc tried to warn Breda off with his eyes. He hoped the screw-this-up-for-me-and-die look got across.

“I believe I had planned to rearrange my articles on existential organization for the modern office chronologically instead of theory based,” Falman said. “I saw a creased corner in one of my file books last night and that won’t do.”

For a few moments no one made a sound.

Havoc cleared his throat and nodded.

“You’ve always been the sensible one among us, that’s for sure,” he said. “I’m sure the General would be lost without you here to make sure all the filing gets done correctly.”

“Colonel Hawkeye entrusted me with the General’s filing inadequacies,” Falman sniffed.

“You were just the man for the job,” Havoc said. “But how about this, you and me and a couple of girls, dinner, a few drinks, maybe some dancing on Saturday night?”

  
“You’re asking me on a date?” Falman said, to his credit he didn’t change expression at all.

“No, _I’m_ not asking you on a date, but my girl has a friend who is dying to meet you,” Havoc said cheerfully, vanquishing the horrific images caused by Falman asking him if he wanted to date him.

“Hmmm,” Falman said. “Who is this girl?”

“Her name is Abby,” Havoc said, “she’s Sarah’s friend. They work at Messy Annie’s.”

“What is their special tonight?” Falman asked.

“Chopped steak, I think,” Havoc said, “you want to go check her out before saying yes?” he grinned.

“No,” Falman said. “I was just curious. I’m not sure Lieutenant, being set-up doesn’t seem regulation to me.”

“But I’m sure she’s a nice girl,” Havoc said.

“You don’t even know her,” Falman said flatly.

“Not personally,” Havoc said, “but Sarah can vouch for her.”

“You have been dating Sarah how long?” Falman said.

“This is our first date,” Havoc said weakly.

“You wish for me to chaperone, I can do that without a date Lieutenant, I would be happy to,” Falman said.

Breda lost it. He got up and tried to make it out of the room before he exploded, almost making it to the door as the General was walking in. His eyes widened when Breda grabbed him for support.

“I don’t need a chaperone,” Havoc hissed quietly so the General wouldn’t hear, “I just thought you might like to meet the girl.”

Falman sniffed then, end of discussion. The General turned to watch Breda run out the door and down the hall, then looked over at Havoc and arched his eyebrow.

“Spicy food for lunch,” Havoc said and patted his own tummy.

“Good thing he made it out the door then,” the General said, crossing to his desk and sitting behind it.

Havoc glanced back at Falman who had already returned to his paperwork. Havoc tapped his fingers on the table for a moment, then grinned, got up and sauntered over to the General’s desk.

“Lieutenant Colonel, are you going through my drawers?” the General drawled when Havoc opened the large bottom filing drawer on his desk.

“Nah,” Havoc replied, “Ed would kill me. Who knew he was the jealous, possessive type?” Havoc grinned.

The General smirked and actually preened. Havoc thought it was funny and fitting as he fingered through the organized folders, _(the legacy of Hawkeye, and the threat of retribution if he didn’t keep them that way)_. He pulled out a form, then helped himself to the General’s pen, because the General had that look of slack to him and wouldn’t be using it soon.

“Spicy food for lunch,” the General shook his head, “no amount of air freshener can overcome it.”

“That’s the truth,” Havoc said as he went back to the table to sit and fill in the form.

***

The Professor asked Seth and Boyd to accompany him and told the class they could talk _quietly_ amongst themselves until they returned. So, naturally the class was in a merry dull roar when the trio returned.

The Professor was carrying two tins of what looked like paint, Seth was carrying a box that was loaded with a variety of brushes and Boyd was carrying some large rolls of duck canvas over his shoulder. The Professor directed them to set their burdens down along the big blank wall that faced the hall and he sat the paint tins down as well.

He turned to look at the class as Boyd and Seth returned to their seats and everyone quieted down, looking at him expectantly.

“I thought this room was a little dull, what do you say we paint some things on the wall,” he asked. He had to hiss them into silence again after the cheer.

  
“Who here is the best artist,” the Professor said, having Daniel and Bernard straighten the duck canvas along the bottom of the wall.

“Boyd is a good artist,” Seth said, looking up at the tall boy. “He made the best horse.”

“A man of many talents,” the Professor said. “Alright Boyd, I think we want to put the Flamel here on this side of the wall. I’m good with circles, but not much else; I’ll try to show you what it looks like. Ah wait, Seth if you still have one of those books about, it is the symbol I wore on the back of my coat.”

Seth ran back to his desk and returned with a copy of ‘The FullMetal Alchemist versus the Space Alchemist from Planet X’. Ed hadn’t seen that one yet, so he had to read the jacket cover before they could scrutinize the cover art for the Flamel. It had a partial image and with a little imagination and description, Boyd said he thought he could wing it.

“Okay, I also want some elemental symbols,” the Professor said, “Daniel, get your text book.”

Daniel fetched it. They opened it up and everyone got down on the canvas except Boyd, because Boyd was drawing a huge Flamel on the wall in chalk so it could be painted.

“Are we going to put an array on the wall,” Gavin asked eagerly. “Maybe the chocolate sauce array!” The chocolate sauce array was the lost treasure of the entire class and they had often sought ways to trick the Professor into reproducing it again.

“Hell no,” the Professor said. “The last thing I need is an accessible, _activatable_ array with you lot. What do you take me for? I told you I’m not going to give you that chocolate array, quit trying to trick me into it.”

“Was a good try though,” Daniel grinned.

“You behave,” the Professor said and then pointed out the elemental symbols.

Daniel was assigned fire, Gavin was assigned water, Tom was assigned air and Seth was assigned light.

The Professor and the rest of the class stood back and watched the artists work, tilting their heads and offering critiques as the drawings took shape, then everyone was given a paintbrush and some lines in Latin. The Professor pulled the tins over, peeled off his right glove and used his automail fingers to pry off the lids to the appreciative oohs and ahhs of the boys.

The colors were red and black and the Professor split them into two teams, handing out paper cups and pointing at the wall.

“Have at it,” he said and walked back to his desk to sat, pulling out some class notes.

Everyone was soon covered in paint.

***

Al was discharged from the infirmary and went home to repack for his trip back to Central since his suitcase had been left on the train when he was taken off of it and no one had found it yet.

He promptly rearranged the den furniture and refolded all the towels in the bathroom. He dug up his military duffle to use as a temporary suitcase and lamented after his old one. It was the suitcase he and brother had used on their travels and he sincerely hoped it turned up at the station.

He wanted to call Ed, but he knew logically Ed was in class and shouldn’t be disturbed. He pondered some magazines he clearly remembered buying, but wasn’t sure why he had bought them. Then he paced the living room like a caged tiger for a few moments.

He then went to the phone, dialed the number that was hardest bore into his brain and waited expectantly as it rang.

“General Mustang’s office,” Havoc said on the other end and Al grinned ear to ear to hear the Second Lieutenant’s, no wait Lieutenant Colonel’s, voice on the other end.

“Havoc, it’s Al,” he said cheerfully. “How are things today? Are you busy? If you’re busy I don’t wish to bother you. Is the General in? Is he busy? Will you let him speak on the phone? I promise not to keep him too long.”

“Hey Al, whoa there Al, yes he’s here,” Havoc said, glancing at the General who looked expectant and held out his hand.

“I’m sorry,” Al said. “I’ve got all these images rolling around in my head and I’m really trying to sort out which is new and which is old and I think it’s making me spastic.” Al put a hand on his hip.

“You don’t say,” Havoc quipped.

The General wiggled his fingers so Havoc turned his back on him.

“No, I do say, that’s the problem. It’s not like I’m actually second guessing myself per se, but it’s disconcerting. I mean, I know the reason for it, but at the same time, why was that a good reason? It’s like meeting your long lost twin and discovering you were very alike even though you are very different. Do you see what I mean?” Al said.

“Yeah,” Havoc said. “What? I mean, no. I mean sure Al, that’s fine.” He was at a loss of what to say to the boy, but glad to hear him sounding so happy.

“That is exactly how I feel,” Al said. “You always cut right to the heart of any matter. Thanks for picking me up off the road when I was flattened.”

“Uh sure,” Havoc said, and scooted away from the desk because the General kept tapping him on the back.

“So I’m catching the afternoon train back to Central, I’ll be there by the weekend,” Al said. “I guess that’s really all I wanted to say.”

“Okay,” Havoc said. He narrowed his eyes at the General who was now tugging on the phone cord. “Did you want to speak to the General?” Havoc asked.

“Yes,” the General said loudly behind Havoc.

The lanky blonde officer grinned at his superior and said, “Here he is” into the phone before handing it over.

The General snorted, straightened his collar and put the phone to his ear.

“Alphonse,” he said and smiled.

“Pirate!” Al said gleefully.

Havoc thought the General’s grin would crack his jaw.

***

“Your mothers are going to kill me,” the Professor grumbled, “you managed to get more paint on you than the walls.”

Many guilty sets of eyes stared at him. Smudges of red and black paint adorned many cheeks and chins and uniform fronts. Edward yanked his handkerchief out of his pocket and grabbed Seth’s chin, going after the spot on his cheek before he realized what he was doing. Seth squirmed and whined; it was bad enough his mother would do this, but his adored Professor was now embarrassing him in front of his classmates.

“This is pointless,” Ed said, looking at the ruined handkerchief before crumpling it up and dropping it on the paint splattered canvas.

“Ah… paint… paint…” the Professor tapped his chin and looked at the ceiling. “Pigments, binders, and solvents. Pigments are designed to color, cover, and protect a surface. Inorganic pigments are derived from various metallic ores. House paints include cadmium, mercury, phenols, chlorine, sulphur, formaldehyde and other volatile organic compounds.” He realized everyone was staring at him then and dropped his hand.

“Right,” the Professor said, “line up!”

Everyone trooped into line on command and if they were shorter than the boy in front of them, they broke formation to lean out and look toward the front of the line.

Seth was still first, as he was standing in front of the Professor when the order was given. He looked up as the Professor smiled and clapped his hands.

“Good thing I know what school uniforms are made of too,” he said, laying his hands on Seth’s shoulders. The paint on his uniform front bubbled up, peeled off and dropped to the floor. Seth’s jaw slacked.

“Okay next,” the Professor said and moved Seth aside.

“My mom would pay you to come over and do that all the time,” Seth murmured.

“Elric laundry service sounds appealing,” the Professor said, cleaning Gavin’s uniform. “Believe me, right now I feel like your mother. Anything might be better than putting up with you lot.” But they all knew he didn’t mean it.

Two down, twenty-one to go.

***

Havoc waited for the General to hang up, then sauntered over and slid the form he’d been filing out under his nose.

The General looked down at it, furrowed his brow, then looked up at Havoc.

“You’re requisitioning Falman?” the General asked askance.

“He needs to get out more, but he’s being stubborn,” Havoc said.

“What does Falman say about this?” the General asked.

“My new girl wants her buddy to double date with us and her buddy wants to date Falman,” Havoc broke. “I don’t know why, please do me a favor?”

The General chuckled and looked around for his pen. Havoc fished it out of his uniform jacket and handed it over.

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt for Falman to go out on a date,” the General said. “Besides, it’s your love life in jeopardy, not mine.” He grinned wickedly and signed with a flourish.

“I do so appreciate it,” Havoc said. “My love life still has the potential to be normal and sane, unlike your love life that could turn you into a frog if you piss him off too badly.”

“There is that,” the General said with a sigh.

Havoc turned back to the big table, marched over and placed the requisition form on top of the paperwork Falman was still working on. The tall man picked it up and read it carefully, frowned at it, nodded to it and looked for the appropriate file to put it in.

“So, meet me at Messy Annie’s at seven on Saturday?” Havoc said.

“It seems I have no choice,” Falman replied.

***

“You’re not going to believe what Havoc did today,” Roy said as Ed slid into the car next to him. “He had me sign a requisition form stating he had to take Falman on a double date.”

Ed laughed, setting his briefcase on the floor between his feet and buckling himself in.

“How did the art project go?” the General said as they started away. “Is the classroom more stimulating now?” he teased.

Ed smirked at him and shook his head.

“I got a first hand taste of why I’m glad neither of us can breed with the other,” Ed said. “I spent more time getting the paint off of them then they spent smearing it on the wall, but it’s not bad. They did a fine job, but I’m beat.” He sank back into the seat and reached over to touch Roy’s sleeve.

“Let’s stop and get something from the deli then,” the General said. “There isn’t really anything at home besides your sandwich makings and you need something to fortify you after a long day of wiping paint off of chins,” he grinned.

“I alchemized it off of uniforms,” Ed grumbled. “Are all boys that messy?”

“You have the most convenient memory sometimes,” the General said. “Wasn’t it Alphonse who _made_ you shower? Speaking of which, he called me today; he’ll be arriving on the late train Friday. We’ll start that whole week over again, like it never existed. We’ve been given a second chance.”

Ed grinned and squirmed in his seat.

“I can’t wait,” he said. “It will be our true reunion, don’t you think? He remembers everything so he’ll know the bad things, but he’ll know the good things too. I’m excited and scared,” Ed admitted.

“He called me Pirate,” Roy said pleased.

“Well I said he’d remember the good things too,” Ed laughed.

***

Ed headed immediately to the end of the long display case where the pots of meat sauce and bowls of fresh pasta were normally kept. Roy stopped to linger near the middle of the case where most of the entrees where placed.

“Should we get beef or sausage meat sauce,” Ed asked him, hands on hips, surveying the offering.

“They have salmon pinwheels with crab meat dressing,” Roy said, pointing at a plate in front of him.

“Sausage sometimes gives me heartburn,” and Ed hit his chest with his flesh hand once, “but I really prefer it over beef.”

“They have chicken tetrazzini today,” Roy said, bending forward slightly and inhaling deeply, “and scalloped potatoes. You love potatoes.”

“Do we want a loaf of that crusty bread or rolls to go with the sauce,” Ed asked. “The rolls are usually better for absorption.”

Roy sighed and looked down the counter toward his lover.

“Edward, I have to tell you something,” he said quietly, tucking his hands in his pockets.

Ed looked over at him, eyebrows raised, expression confused.

“What is it?” he asked, taking a step closer. “What’s wrong?”

“There comes a time in everything relationship when things change. We are, after all, individuals first and a couple second. I’m really not sure how to put this,” Roy said and gave Ed a small sad smile.

“Just… just say it,” Ed said, a little breathlessly, fists clenched.

“I’m tired of noodles and meat sauce and I want something else,” Roy said.

Ed stood for a moment, gaping. Then he gritted his teeth and snarled.

“You bastard! How can you say something like that with that serious tone? Damn, I thought something was really wrong!” Ed hissed.

“Guilty conscious?” the General asked with a smirk. “Look, they have braised beef with vegetables, too.”

“No, I want noodles and meat sauce, you get whatever you want,” Ed said, throwing nose in air. “You’ll be sorry when we get home and I’m not going to share.”

“Ed, you have three basic food groups and they are: noodles with meat sauce, ham sandwiches and mixed nuts. You really need to broaden your horizons here,” the General said, hands on hips. “It will be the other way around; when we get home, you’ll hang over your pasta bowl like a vulture while trying to pick things off my plate.”

“Like I want anything off your plate,” Ed waved for the girl behind the counter and she hurried over smiling.

“Your usual, Professor?” she asked pleasantly, getting a container.

“Mix the meat sauces today Marie, if you don’t mind,” Ed said. “I’ll have some of these rolls too, give me a half dozen.”

Ed looked down the counter at Roy and gave his best haughty air.

Roy turned and waved to another counter girl who rushed over smiling and pointed at the chicken tetrazzini.

“Wait and see,” he said to his lover who was accepting his order over the top of the counter, _(having to stand on tiptoe to do it since the traitor General wasn’t at his side arguing meat sauces as usual)_ , “I should make you a bet, because I know I’m going to win.”

“Hmph,” Ed said and preceded him to the check out. He stood there and waited for Roy to join him so he could pay.

***

Ed sat the phonograph on the bathroom vanity and went to get the requested disc, scowling. The General was in a tub of bubbly, teaming water with a cigar, a glass of scotch, his newspaper and his dog in his lap. Who knew terriers liked bubble baths?

“That bet was totally unfair,” Edward groused when he walked back in, carefully pulling the disc from its sleeve and putting it on the turntable. “I didn’t know that chicken tepid stuff had noodles with it.”

Roy removed the cigar from his mouth, blew a satisfying stream of smoke and sighed.

“This is what you get, my love, for not broadening your horizons,” Roy settled back more comfortably. “You should always listen to me; I only have your best interests at heart.”

Edward cranked the phonograph, toggled the switch and put the needle onto the spinning disc.

“Your eyes on my ass too,” Ed said as the music began to play. He adjusted the volume, then picked up the book of matches and began lighting all the candles he’d been ordered to carry in. “I can’t believe you prefer that dog in the bathtub instead of me,” Ed complained.

“The terms of the bet were clearly stated in the car and you agreed to them,” the General said. “It’s bad sportsmanship to whine about it now. Dim the lights and don’t be more than an earshot away, I’ll probably need another scotch soon.”

Edward gritted his teeth, clenched his fists and restrained himself from leaping over to the tub and drowning the smug bastard and his dog. He forced himself to the light switch and turned it off, then stalked out and down to the den to get the bottle of scotch. He returned to the bedroom and sat on the bed with his arms folded; the last part of the bet called for nakedness, splayed limbs and all the words to ‘March of the Night Brigade’ to be sung, on command no less.

It was going to be a long night. Oh he’d cum a few times to be certain, but a long night, nonetheless.

***

In the panting afterwards, when they could barely move, the General whispered hoarsely in his ear, “Lose more bets.”

“Yeah okay,” Ed agreed dreamily.

***

He lost sight of Ed on the platform as the train was pulling into the station. He’d taken off work early at Ed’s behest so they could meet the afternoon train; it was just fortunate Ed’s class was an early morning one. He stood on tiptoe trying to see the blonde head in the mass of fellow platform well wishers, but it was a lost cause. The General snorted, stuck his hands into his coat pockets and just waited. He stood near the back of the mob so he could catch sight of them as they headed for the exit.

***

As for the steady stream of passengers disembarking, Ed only had eyes for one passenger in particular. He jostled with the rest of the crowd and used his disadvantage to his advantage, ducking under raised arms and twisting around blocking bodies.

Al came down the steps behind a woman with two small children. He had a steadying hand on the back of the little girl before him and the mother smiled warmly at him when he helped her daughter down the last step. Ed wasted no time in heading for his brother.

“Al!” he called and Al turned then, expression turning to joy.

“Brother!” Al said and closed the gap between them, dropping his duffle and throwing his arms around Ed. Ed did the same and pressed his forehead into his brother’s shoulder. They stood there, other passengers streaming around them and occasionally bumping them, but there were only the two of them in the world.

***

The back seat of the car was a loud place to be.

“I thought the bastard had me, but you have really good aim,” Ed was laughing hard. “You got him right in the ‘nads, do you remember that?”

“Yes,” Al said, also breathless with laughter. “He just sort of doubled over and you started laughing and pointing. Of course then you set that array and built that wall around him. That was great. We used to do the most insane things,” Al leaned heavily against Ed’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Ed said, “we did. But we don’t have to anymore.”

“Hallelujah,” said the driver of the car who’d just been enjoying listening to the brothers’ laughter.

Ed leaned forward then and ran a hand over Roy’s shoulder, catching the look Roy gave him in the rearview mirror and smiling with a sigh.

Al also smiled. His brother was happy, after everything they had lived and lost, to finally have this peace was almost overwhelming.

“You know, now that I have this body back, I appreciate how much that ‘nads thing must have hurt,” Al said suddenly. “In fact, I feel kind of sorry for that guy now.”

Ed howled in laughter and fell back on his little brother, wrapping him in a hug again.

“Sympathy for your fellow man’s ‘nads is a wonderful thing,” the General said laughing himself from the front seat.

“Stop,” Ed pleaded. “You’re killing me!”

“I have to figure out how they work again,” Al said over Ed’s head. “I’d hate to think I’ve gotten rusty,” and then Al howled in laughter because that was ridiculously funny to him.

Ed shook him and butted him against the car seat, snickering.

“Armor! Rusty!” Al howled. “Get it? Get it?”

“You really do have your memories back to make jokes like that,” Ed said. “Your jokes always sucked,” he was wiping tears of mirth out of his eyes.

“Yeah, missed you too. loser,” Al said and grinned when Ed scowled. “I see you’re dressing better though, all the General’s influence I’m sure.”

“I dress myself,” Ed said and pushed off of him, collapsing beside him again, shoulder smashed to shoulder.

“I just undress him,” the General said casually from the front.

Both brothers snickered at that and Al poked Ed in the ribs while Ed blushed.

“When are you going to make a decent man of my brother, Pirate,” Al said and kicked the back of Roy’s seat slightly. “You’ve already forced offspring on him, the least you could do it make it binding,” he teased.

“R.D. may have to wallow in illegitimacy I’m afraid,” the General lamented. “Your brother plays notoriously hard to get.”

“That’s right, I’m prize material,” Ed sniffed. “I don’t just give it away for free, it has to be earned.”

“Which is why you still have it,” Al said. “You’d probably do better with that ‘giving it away free’ option.”

Edward attacked Al’s ribs and Al screeched for mercy. When they finally batted each other away, they grinned like loons at each other from opposite sides of the back seat.

“Professor Elric,” Al said. “That’s damn right respectable, brother. It really is the end of the world as we know it.”

“Indeed,” the General intoned from the front seat as Edward snorted and huffed.

“Yeah,” Ed said finally. “Aren’t we glad?”

No one could argue with him.

***

The joyous reunion between faithful canine companion and master was always a wonder to behold, but R.D. ignored Roy and Edward and did laps of manic happiness at Al’s presence. The three of them watched him lap the living room and Roy tried to get his leash on him to take him out since he’d been in the house all day. Finally, Ed tried to catch him as well, pelting down the hall after him, half bent over, arms outstretched and yelling dog inspired obscenities.

  
“He has such a way with animals,” Al said and winced when Ed ran into the kitchen door jamb.

“For someone who really despises that dog, he goes to a lot of effort on his behalf,” Roy chuckled. “Get this: he wants to landscape the back yard. When I asked him why, he bristled and said it was butt ugly. I asked him if he wanted to have gala tea parties like all the other General’s wives.”

Al laughed and snorted. “What did he say then?”

“Things I don’t care to repeat, but he let slip it was so R.D would have shade when we put him out in the summer. That and he’ll transmute the fencing himself to make it escape proof,” the General grinned.

Ed came back then, grumbling, carrying a wiggling R.D. and scowled at the two of them. Roy hooked the collar on the little dog in Ed’s hands and Ed set him on the floor.

“I was thinking Ed,” Roy said as he turned for the front door, “you could make a grill for the backyard, too. One of those large brick ones all the other Generals have.”

“You bastard, are you telling Al about your General’s wives zinger,” Ed snarled, “I hate you.”

“I think that’s a fabulous idea Pirate,” Al piped up. “You know, grilling is the manly way to cook,” he nodded.

“Indeed,” the General said, opening the front door and letting R.D. drag him out. Al followed him and Ed whined and followed the two of them. Roy stood off to the side and let R.D. inspect the bushes.

“Oh brother, you could make a deck,” Al simpered.

“He could make a gazebo with those darling trellis sides that the morning glories grow on to,” the General added.

“A fish pond,” Al exclaimed.

Edward turned around, went back into the house and slammed the front door. Locking it was useless. Alphonse could transmute.

***

Edward had to be dragged out of Al’s bedroom later in the evening so everyone could get some sleep.

“He’ll still be here in the morning,” Roy said, wrapping around the wiggling blonde in bed. “You’ve got the weekend and then he’ll be here all week. You could invite him to sit in on your class.”

Ed stilled for a moment in thought and went back to shifting around.

“I know he’ll be here in the morning, I just wanted to keep talking to him,” Edward groused. “It’s not like we have to get up early.”

“He was tired, he was drooping,” Roy soothed. “I know you love him and you’re thrilled he’s back and whole, but let the boy sleep,” he chuckled.

“I’m not tired,” Ed grumbled, then his eyebrows rose as a hand smoothed down his stomach, into the front of his pajama pants and under the waistband of his boxers.

“I can fix that,” a husky voice said in his ear as deft fingers wrapped around his cock.

“Don’t I fix everything,” the General whispered, pulling his fingers up to the head and then back down in a leisurely motion.

“Y…yes,” Ed swallowed, closing his eyes.

R.D. forced the door open, ran to the trunk and jumped up on the foot of the bed. Edward froze up like a block of ice and twisted onto his side, causing Roy’s hand to slip free of its conquest.

Roy let his head thump onto the pillow and he sighed as the little terrier ran up between them and licked Roy in the face.

R.D. settled down, oblivious to his disruptive presence and pawed Roy’s nose until the General gave him a scratch and a loud, plaintive sigh.

“Don’t blame me,” Ed mumbled from the other side of the bed. “You’re the one who wanted kids.”

 

**

 

Getting ready for a date had become more of a routine for the Lieutenant Colonel in the last few years. He double checked himself in the mirror a few times before deciding this was as good as it was going to get. He then walked out into the front room of his small apartment and checked his watch again. He had a few minutes before he really had to leave, so he stood looking around for something that would require only a few minutes to do. He snapped his fingers and popped his closed fist with the open palm of the other hand before deciding he’d just be a little early and left.

He arrived outside the restaurant and lingered about, looking up and down the walk for his erstwhile double dating partner. If Falman stood him up… well he wasn’t sure what he would do. After all, that had been a pretty low trick, requisitioning him, even if the General had played along with it.

“Hey, soldier boy,” a voice called. He turned around and grinned as a pair of girls walked toward him.

Sarah was wearing a nicely tight sweater under a jacket with a dark skirt that hung to her mid-thighs, stockings and knee-high boots. Her hair was high in a ponytail and she was grinning. He saluted her as she approached and then noticed her friend beside her. He’d seen Abby at the restaurant before, but never paid her that much attention. She was nice enough and cute enough, but it always Sarah’s cheerful voice and laugh that had attracted him.

Sarah laughed a little low for a girl, but it was always husky and made him twitch in just the right way. She wasn’t shy either, and she proved it right away by latching onto his arm before introducing her friend.

“This is Abby,” she said.

Havoc and Abby both smiled and said “Hi” at the same time. Havoc tightened his elbow in a little, bringing Sarah’s knuckles up against his side. She just grinned at him and looked around.

“Where’s Abby’s date?” she asked.

“He’ll be along,” Havoc tried to sound reassuring. “He might be running a little late.”

“I’m right here Lieutenant,” Falman’s voice sounded just behind him making him jump, turn and lose Sarah’s grip on his arm. Havoc took in his dark suit with its dark turtleneck and his familiar blank expression, shrugged and turned to introduce him to his date.

“This is Second Lieutenant Vato Falman.” Havoc said the girl at Sarah’s side, “Falman this is Abby…” he realized then he hadn’t gotten her last name.

“Abigail Thorton, but you can call me Abby,” she filled in for Havoc smoothly.

“Great, great,” Havoc said and looked between the two. He could tell Abby was giving Falman the cruise of death, but he wasn’t sure Falman was detecting it. Falman never seemed to open his eyes wide enough to see anything, but at any rate, Havoc took Sarah’s arm again, nodded toward the restaurant and they all went in.

“Don’t you get sick of this place?” Havoc asked as they were seated. “I mean, you work here,” he said.

“Nah,” Sarah said. “At least I know the cooks and we eat cheap, don’t we Abby?” she said.

Abby nodded pleasantly, sitting in the same ramrod position as Falman, across the table from them.

“So see, that’s a break on you working boys,” Sarah said. “Besides, it’s nice having the other slackers in here wait on me for a change,” she didn’t bother to look at her menu as Havoc opened his.

“This establishment,” Falman stated slowly, “always passes code for sanitation. its food, while lacking in certain nutritional values, is adequate and fairly priced.”

Havoc supposed this was Falman’s way of giving the place a compliment.

“Oh yes,” Abby chirped. “We’ve very hygiene minded here. Unfortunately it’s easier and cheaper to get the lower cuts of meat, but I think our cook does a marvelous job with what we give him. Annie herself knows her clientele is all from the military base and she knows what pittances you get paid, so she does her best.” Abby then folder her hands back in her lap and went back to her pleasant smile.

Havoc looked side long at Sarah who was smiling back at her friend. She noticed his look and looked at him, giving him a wicked little smirk and a raise of the eyebrow. She bumped her booted foot against the side of his shoe.

“I find that many people don’t concern themselves as they should with caloric intake,” Falman droned. “For example, a co-worker of ours who I have been trying to minister to for the past several years: his eating habits are not really fit for a domestic canine and yet he refuses to heed even the most basic advice on food group choices.”

“Breda will eat anything edible that’s not tied down,” Havoc chucked. “But that’s not a problem, some guys like their grub.”

“It’s most distressing when someone you truly care to offer advice to doesn’t take it,” Abby sympathized. “My own mother was in a bit of a pinch with her joints and I happen to know that gelatin is excellent for joints. So I advised her to eat plenty of salad molds and gelatin desserts in an effort to relieve her symptoms, but I really don’t think she’s taking my advice,” Abby finished her sad little tale and pouted with her lower lip, just barely.

Falman turned to look at her then and Havoc noticed his mouth wasn’t drawn quite so tight and his eyes were open just a wee bit.

“There are other external remedies for joints,” Falman said. Abby met his eyes and they stared at each other for a long moment, then Falman launched into the newest technology, which was external heating pads, and Abby clasped her hands together, tilted her face and listened to his wisdom.

“Match made in heaven,” Havoc murmured, shocked and mesmerized for a few moments.

“Bet they ditch us before we ditch them,” Sarah giggled.

 _This just might be love_ , Havoc thought dazedly, looking down into her laughing eyes.

***

Saturday morning had dawned differently in the Elric-Mustang household. It found the two brothers in the back yard with determined faces and a terrier going berserk at the end of a leash. The General stood in the back door, sipping coffee.

There was much pointing and discussion and General ignoring.

To make up for teasing Ed about being a General’s wife, Al had volunteered to help him plan out the backyard architecture.

Al found a stick and began to sketch in the dirt, but his elder brother rubbed his chin and shook his head and tried to take Al’s stick to scratch is own thoughts in the dirt. Al didn’t want to relinquish his stick, he’d found it after all, Ed could just find his own.

This of course turned into a minor brawl with Al cheerfully holding the stick up over his head, which was fine until Ed lost it and jumped on him. In the ensuing struggle, R.D. planned and executed his bid for freedom and won it. The General watched the brothers get to their feet and chase after the little dog through to the next backyard, then turned around and went back for more coffee.

***

The dog bounty hunters returned haggard and out of breath with a puppy tucked firmly under Al’s arm. They arrived in the kitchen where Ed immediately horned in on Roy’s breakfast and Al got some juice from the icebox. Al plopped down opposite the pair and watched his brother eat most of the General’s breakfast, who indulged him while reading the morning paper.

“Hey,” Al said, “you know we could write the Tringham’s, ask them for advice. Maybe one of them could come grow a tree or two for us.”

“It’s a thought,” Ed said. “I know Fletcher is stationed in the mid-lands and works at one of the military-run botany labs there.”

“Yes,” Al said. “He wrote me when I was doing my own brand of botanical research,” Al tilted his head. “I didn’t remember him at the time, but now I do. He was really nice.”

“The older boy is the one who found you in the underground city,” the General said. “You might not remember that.”

“I owe him my thanks then,” Al said.

“I do too,” Ed said. “I didn’t know it was Russell.”

“Well, he and a woman named Rose,” Roy recalled.

“Rose is fine, I write to her all the time,” Al said. “She’s married now and living in Dublith. She has a second son too, she’s been married for about three years.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Ed said. “I admit I never really inquired after her when I came back, but I’m still glad to hear she’s doing okay.”

“You know about teacher,” Al said quietly, running his thumb up and down the side of his juice glass.

“Yes,” Ed said just as quietly. “I’ve written a few letters to Sigh and he’s responded. I’m just glad she was there for you, Al. It makes having left you alone all that time a little easier.”

Roy reached over and rubbed his hand over Ed’s shoulder and the back of his neck.

“I wish I could have seen her one more time before she…” but he didn’t want to say it and Al was looking at the tabletop now.

“We need to plan Al’s eighteenth birthday bash,” Roy said to break the mood. “I’ve spoken to Gracia. She and Elysia will be coming to stay with us and help us poor bachelor men throw a decent party.”

Al looked up then and smiled. Ed did too, looking at his younger brother across the table.

“Who should we invite?” Al said.

“I say anyone who wants to come,” Ed replied. “All the guys at the office, maybe some of your General friends,” he smirked to Roy.

“See, I knew you wanted to have a party,” Roy ran his hand down Ed’s back and patted his rump. “You’re a fine wife out to further my career.”

“Fuck you,” Ed snarled. “Which is something a wife couldn’t do. You forget we can play change up in the ‘who tops who’ game,” and he snorted, remembered Al was there, and turned bright red.

“Taking R.D. back out,” Al said loudly as he got up from the table.

***

“The kids are gone,” the General said with a smirk. “Kiss me.”

“No way,” Ed pushed away and got up from the table. “I can’t believe I let you provoke me into that in front of Al,” Ed groaned. “He was beet red.”

“No redder than you were,” Roy chuckled getting up and crowding Ed into the wall by the table.

“Get off,” Ed said without much conviction, getting lost in a moan when Roy covered his mouth with his own. Roy pulled back a bit and ran his thumb over a full bottom lip.

“You need to make up to me for last night,” he said. “Spurning me like that, you know how delicate my feelings are,” he grinned.

“Delicate my ass,” Ed huffed. “It’s your fault for not making sure your dog was locked up for the night. Hey… hey…” As Edward talked, Roy’s hand traveled. Edward gritted his teeth and arched away from the wall into the hand rubbing him through his jeans.

Roy ground hard with the heel of his hand and Edward licked his lips as the fingers of his flesh hand dug into the front of Roy’s shirt. Roy took his mouth again and leaned into him, his other hand going for the button of Ed’s jeans. Ed whimpered into his mouth and his automail hand slid down the arm rubbing him, cupped over Roy’s hand and pressed it into himself harder.

Roy appreciated Ed’s jean' tightness. He really did when Ed was walking around the house or bending over. They were nice and defining and let Roy see what he had to look forward to in bed that night, but trying to get his hand down the front of them with a squirming Edward pinned to the wall wasn’t making him a fan at the moment. He abandoned the rubbing for a moment, _(and Edward let him know his displeasure with a low grunt and yank on his shirtfront)_ , so he could use both hands to get the jeans sufficiently open. He managed it barely and shoved his hand down into them, dragging his palm over Ed’s hard cock.

Ed closed his eyes as he began the bump and grind against Roy’s hand. Roy tightened is fingers obligingly, squeezing rhythmically, because moving his hand up and down in the confined space seem to be a bit of a problem. Many long heated moments followed, Ed pulling at his shoulders, trying to drive his tongue down his throat, Roy squeezing harder and harder and bumping and grinding himself a bit against Ed’s hard thigh. Roy pushed his free hand beneath Ed’s sweater and dragged it up, thumb brushing a hard nipple. Ed shuddered and moaned lowly, thrust harder against Roy’s trapped hand and Roy latched onto the side of his neck.

Just when it looked like Edward needed to be lain on the kitchen table and his jeans yanked to his ankles, the kitchen back door swung open and in trotted R.D. with Al at the end of his leash. Everyone went still and silent. Ed’s eyes became saucers and he slammed his hips back to the wall, but Roy’s hand was well and truly stuck down the front of his tight jeans, with Ed’s erection giving it no real room to maneuver even though the General tugged. Ed’s stomach and chest were also bare as Roy had pushed his sweater up to bunch under his chin on one side, but the General wasn’t one to panic. He merely shifted fully in front of Edward to block him from view as his lover flushed to the very roots of his blonde hair.

“R.D. and I are going back out,” Al announced loudly. “We’ll probably go around the block a dozen times or so,” and he backed hastily out the way he’d come in, tugging R.D. out the door by the leash. The little dog continued to stare at them until he was forced out, the kitchen door slamming shut quickly and a little too hard.

Ed whimpered then and seemed to squirm to get away, but Roy leaned into him hard.

“No,” he said husky and low, “no Ed… god just let me…” his lips moved over Ed’s cheek and jaw and down the side of his neck.

He began moving his trapped hand and then thrust his own hips against it as well, fingers threading into the blonde hair at the nape of Ed’s neck and Ed arched from the wall again. Roy was alarmed at first that it might be another attempt to throw him off, but despite the blush that had worked its way down his throat and toward his chest, it wasn’t. Ed’s automail hand grabbed Roy’s butt and pulled.

All the almost flesh on flesh of their crotches was becoming unbearable. Roy turned Ed and forced him back, laying him on the kitchen table as he’d fantasized about earlier. Edward sucked in a hard breath as Roy gave a firm tug and his hand pulled free. He then used both of them to grip the waist band of the jeans, shimmying them back and forth over Edward’s hips and down to his ankles, his boxers going along with them. He then yanked them free of one foot after pulling his boot off. Edward sat up as Roy worked on his own pants for a moment, a smile tugging at his face.

“This seems familiar,” he said. Roy raised a dark eye and eyebrow to him.

“Same table even,” Ed patted it and reached out, grabbing Roy by his upper arms and pulling him between his parted knees.

“You must have a thing for kitchen tables, old man,” he husked. “The very first time you put the moves on me, you sat my ass on this kitchen table,” and he leaned up and covered Roy’s mouth before the man could speak, instead moaning into Ed’s throat.

Roy had his pants open by then and he kissed back heatedly. Ed was irresistibly sexy at the moment and coherent thought was beyond him, or he would have had a witty come back to that ‘old man’ barb. Then Edward was touching him with his flesh hand, sliding up the underside of Roy’s own erection. He had his hand palm up and caught the head of Roy’s cock between his fingers, pressing to either side of it with his knuckles.

Ed released Roy’s mouth and gave the head a light squeeze.

“Full circle, eh old man?” he murmured with mirth in his tone, licking the side of Roy’s neck and mouthing it. Roy leaned over him then, pressing him onto this back and then realizing the oil was in a cabinet way over there… or in the bedroom in an ornate bottle on the bedside table.

Ed was being adorable now; he knew how to push all of Roy’s buttons. He grasped the General’s thighs with his knees and made pleading whimpers in his throat, tugging on the General’s shirtfront with growing force. Roy’s mind glazed and he wondered if he could walk as hard as he was and carry Ed at the same time. This had gone beyond a kitchen wall grope; this needed a bed in a bedroom.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Ed let out a squawk and a whoosh of air as he was suddenly thrown over Roy’s shoulder. The General set his jaw and he marched with Ed complaining the entire way down to the bedroom where he walked in, shut the door behind them, approached the bed and tossed Ed down onto it.

Ed blinked up at him and then grinned, stretching and hold his arms out, but the General had a funny look on his face and he slowly put a hand to the small of his back and leaned over Ed with his other hand braced on the bed.

“Roy?” Ed asked, pushing up on his elbows.

“We have somehow displeased the sex gods,” Roy whined. “I think my back is out.”

“Well that’s okay,” Ed said, sounding desperate. “Just use your mouth!”

Roy lifted his head as fast as the pain radiating from his lower back would allow and scowled at Edward. Edward sucked in his lower lip and arched his hips hopefully.

“Don’t get me wrong, that is very inviting and very lovely of you to offer,” the General forced through his gritted teeth, “but I’m thinking more along the lines of the ligament ointment and borrowing your heating pad.”

“Damnit Roy,” Ed snarled and flipped onto his stomach, wiggling over to the other side of the bed. He had to right his jeans, yank them up and button them over his painfully obvious erection before stomping off toward the bathroom.

“Your concern is overwhelming,” the General said wryly.

“It’s not my fault you wanted to play macho,” Ed said coming back and setting the ointment on the bedside table along with a towel and then going to pull his heating pad out of the highboy.

He turned around and looked at Roy who was giving him the pitiful ‘You’re-so-unromantic’ look like he often did and sighed.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” the blonde said. “It was very thrilling to be slung over your shoulder. I was truly wooed with your show of brutish desire.” Ed walked back, leaned over his back and put his arms around him, working the buttons loose on his shirt.

“It’s a real shame,” Ed said. “Rubbing ointment all over your naked back is going to do nothing for my boner. I’ll just have to go in the bathroom and take care of it before Al comes home.”

Roy moaned a little at the mental image and then gasped as Ed eased him down onto the bed, scooting him up on it and relieving him of his shoes.

“All alone in the bathroom, just me and my hand,” Ed lamented. “Thoughts of you of course to help it along its way.” Ed opened up the ointment, poured a bit on Roy’s lower back and began to work it in with slow, circular motions of his flesh hand.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” the General said muffled in the comforter.

“Of course I am,” Ed said. “What fun would it be to do it otherwise?”

He got the ointment worked in, laid the towel over Roy’s back, followed by the heating pad and plugged it in. He made a production of shutting the bathroom door loudly as he left the General lying there.

Roy had to work out the appropriate sacrifices to the sex gods and soon. Otherwise, he might die.

***

Little brother was always the best distraction. They sat in the den on the couch under the window and relived many of their experiences. Eventually, the General made an appearance, looking heroically pale and grim and they fawned on him. They got him comfy in his big chair, they cranked his phonograph for him, and they fetched the evening paper for him. Then they left him all alone claiming they were going to go cook dinner for him.

When he was reasonably sure dinner couldn’t be taking _this long_ , he managed to get out of the chair on his own and go in a slow, shuffling search of the house. He found them in the kitchen all right, with the makings of dinner strewn about, but they were both at the kitchen table, heads tipped over an old cookbook they’d found in a barn in the days of their youth.

“I just don’t understand how a ‘dash’ can be a sound form of measurement,” Edward was murmuring when Roy made the kitchen door.

“It’s an accent,” Al said. “It’s not an absolute. I know that alchemy starts in the kitchen, but cooking isn’t alchemy, brother. You were always so good at playing fast and hard with the rules before.”

“Are we ever going to eat,” the General said grumpily.

“You shouldn’t be up and moving around Pirate,” Al said, not at all put off by the General’s surly tone. “Back injuries need rest and immobility.”

“We’ll eat when we get it cooked,” Ed snapped back, however. “Unless you think you can do a better job.”

“Brother,” Al chided gently, bumping Ed’s shoulder with his own.

“Well he’s awful bossy for not being in here helping,” Ed sniffed indignantly.

“He threw his back out,” Al defended his Pirate. “He’s not moving around too well, it must hurt.”

“Well it was his own fault,” Ed countered.

Roy glared for a moment then let his look turn pouting and hurt. He put his nose in the air, turned with all the dignity he could muster, _(which wasn’t much while shuffling)_ , and left them there.

Ed fidgeted and sucked in the side of his cheek.

“You should be ashamed,” his little brother said. “He hurt his back… um… with you, didn’t he?”

Ed colored up and shrugged.

“Sorry you… you had to see that in the kitchen,” he mumbled.

“You have nothing to be sorry about brother,“ Al grinned. “I know the General loves you and you love him. It’s nice, really. I hope I can have that some day.”

“You most definitely will,” Ed grinned, throwing an arm over Al’s shoulders as they leaned over the table.

“Do you think you could help me with something then?” Al asked suddenly.

“Anything,” his big brother said easily. “Anything you want, Al.”

“How did you win the General,” Al said. “I really want to know. What made him decide he loved you? What did you do?”

Ed faltered a little under Al’s questioning gaze.

“I don’t know really,” Ed said honestly. “It just happened. I was yelling at him and then he was kissing me and… “ Ed spread his arms. “It just happened.”

“Well that’s not much help,” Al said and snorted.

“But that’s all I got,” his older brother sighed. “I don’t know, I think I always just loved the bastard and I’m not sure why. Come on, let’s feed him.”

Al nodded and went over to the counter; Ed went over to help him.

“You always just loved him,” Al murmured, a statement more than a question.

“When I think back on it, I remember I didn’t love him when we were first here,” Ed said. “But later on, I think it just happened. I can’t pinpoint it.” He peeled an onion and got a knife from the butcher block.

“What about if there was someone I always just loved,” Al said and looked sidelong at his brother. “How do I show that? I mean what do I do?”

Ed looked at him then, rolling the onion in his hands.

“Is it Hawkeye?” his elder brother said. “I mean, I should have guessed the way you used to follow her around when we were in East City between missions, but you know me, blind until it slaps me in the face.”

“You are very subtlety challenged, I agree,” Al said, putting a pan on the stove and getting the block of butter from the icebox. “But I don’t know if it was love then. I respected her because she was so smart and then yeah, I started to notice she was really pretty.”

“So what is it like now, working with her as a Colonel?” Ed asked.

“It’s great,” Al said. “She’s just as brilliant and beautiful as ever and she’s getting the respect she deserves. It’s one of the reasons I want to work contractually for the military once I’m a civilian, so I can stay close to her.”

Ed put the onion on the cutting board finally and frowned a little as he cut it in half to chop.

“Don’t be like that brother,” Al said. “You know my home is here with you and the Pirate, but that’s just it. It should be _you_ and the _Pirate_. I know I don’t get in the way,” Al headed off Ed’s protest, “but you are off having your life now.”

Ed blinked and then turned to look at Al.

“This is your happily ever after Ed,” Al said. “I need to go find mine.”

“I’ll help you any way I can,” his big brother said after a moment. “I’ll do whatever I can to help you make it come true.”

Al smiled then let his hand linger on the automail hand handling an onion on the cutting board.

“I know you will,” Al said. “I always have faith in you, brother.”

They bumped shoulders again.

***

The foursome exited the restaurant and stood on the walk outside to decide what to do next. Abby fingered her lower lip and smiled at her friend.

“Sarah, you don’t mind if Vato and I leave you and Jean to go for coffee do you?” she ventured. “I know you want to go to the dance hall, but swing isn’t my thing.” She pleaded with her eyes.

“Oh well,” Sarah put on a big show of being disappointed. “I guess that’s alright, I mean, soldier boy and I were just going to go and listen to the band, but if you’re not into it, you’re not into it.” She gave her own smile and shrug.

“You’re really the best,” Abby gushed. “And thank you so much Jean for introducing me to your friend,” she tucked her arm into Falman’s and the man bent his elbow just enough for her to do so.

“Not a problem,” Havoc grinned. “He just oozes charm, I knew you’d hit it off the moment Sarah mentioned it.”

Falman’s eyebrow twitched slightly; really it was the most reaction Havoc had seen out of the man ever. He was feeling rather glad he more or less forced this on him.

“Okay, we’ll be going then,” Abby said.

“Good evening Miss Sarah, Lietuenant Colonel,” Falman said.

“Have fun,” Havoc called after them, “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Hopefully that isn’t a lot,” Sarah said and grabbed his hand. “Come on soldier boy, there is a dance floor calling our name.”

Havoc grinned and let her drag him away.

***

The place was packed and dense with smoke and loud laughter. The band was at a fevered pitch and Sarah wasted no time dragging him right into the middle of the throng on the dance floor. He had not picked up much swing, but the way she moved and invited, showing him with her hands and body, it didn’t take long to catch on. It was not just a dance; this effortless breeze of steps and turns, this disjointed and random journey around the dance floor, it was a proving ground.

They were learning each other, through mood and music and sight. He anticipated her, she allowed him to lead. It was a test and Havoc threw himself into the study wholeheartedly. He had dated many girls in the past few years; not as impressive as his General back in his day, but enough to keep him pleasantly occupied in his free time and no longer bemoaning his romantic misfortune.

Each time he spun her, pushing her away and drawing her back against his body was another exhilaration. She laughed and her long hair swirled about her body; she leaned into his lead, _trusted_ him with each step and he was marveled at her tenacity. She was just this side of dangerous and just this side of wild and he felt ready for such an adventure, he felt it was time to try and make something last.

The music ended all too soon and they stood panting and clapping with the other dancers, all of whom, like they, were learning their partner’s moves. The bandleader gestured with his baton and a young soldier stepped up to the microphone.

“We’re going to give all you guys and dolls a break,” the man said. “We’re going to do all you guys a favor, this one is gonna be nice and slow, so pull her close and look into her eyes and be glad you’re here tonight.”

The bandleader counted out the rhythm and his baton waved and the horns rang in clear and true, followed by the bass and drums.

 _Got my tweed pressed, got my best vest, all I need now is the girl  
Got my striped tie, got my hopes high_

Sarah curved into him gracefully as they began to sway and smiled up at him, still breathless from the frenzy of swing they’d danced only moments before.

 _Got the time and the place and I got the rhythm,  
Now all I need's the girl to go with 'em_

“I think I’ve got a girl to go with ‘em,” Havoc quipped and grinned.

“Yeah,” she said, “I think you do.”

The rest of the night moved in the same way, from frenetic motion to slow appreciation.

Yeah, Havoc could live with this.


	9. Chapter 9

“Gee, Professor. You’re really flighty today,” Gavin said mildly when Ed handed the boy someone else’s graded paper _again_.

“That is some way to address your Professor,” Ed said, rifling through the stack in his hand for the correct paper. “There are too many ‘G’ names in this class.”

“There’s just me and Greg,” Gavin said helpfully.

“I have the wrong paper too,” Tom said timidly and held it up.

Edward threw his arms into the air and waved the stack around.

“Seth, save me,” he said and the boy promptly jumped up, went over and took the stack for distribution.

“What’s your problem?” Daniel laughed as Ed trudged back to his desk.

The Professor sat, pushed at his glasses and sniffed.

“I’m a very busy man,” he said. “I don’t think you appreciate all the work that goes into getting your vacuous little minds to absorb knowledge. There is some staff meeting today as well; Alphonse’s birthday is next week and a very large party is being planned. I have a lot on my plate.”

“Are we going to get to meet him?” Boyd asked from the back of the room.

“Who?” the Professor asked.

“Alphonse,” Richard helped. “The Armored Alchemist!”

“He’s the Theorem Alchemist,” Ed said, “you really want to meet him?”

“Will he bring his armor?” Duffy asked excitedly.

“No, no,” Ed said and shook his head. “He doesn’t do that anymore.”

 _Or have to live it anymore, thank… someone._

“What’s a theorem?” Daniel asked.

“It’s a theory,” the Professor said. “My little brother is a genius,” the Professor puffed up, “his theories are being published in alchemic texts.”

“He uses alchemy to write theories?” Bernard said and scratched his head. “Can you use alchemy to write book reports?”

“No,” the Professor said. “He writes theories about alchemy. He writes about the speculative process or turning one thing into a another.”

“But you can do that without having to read about it,” Daniel said.

“I have to understand how something works, that’s why we go over ingredients and formulas,” the Professor said. “For instance, I don’t know how a car engine works, so I wouldn’t make a very good engine were I to transmute one.”

“A car engine has pistons,” Duffy said.

“It has a transmission too,” Seth added.

“But how does a piston work, what does a transmission do?” the Professor said.

The boys chewed their lips in silence, glancing at each other.

“If I know a bird can fly because it has hollow bones and wings, then can I transmute wings on myself?” Gavin asked.

“While possible, it is not something you would want to do, and human transmutation is illegal,” the Professor said seriously.

 _Hypocrite… you always swore you’d never say ‘don’t do what I do, do what I tell you to.’_

The bell rang, cutting short all further musings, and Edward sent them off with a curt wave and a ‘no homework tonight’, which put smiles on their faces as they all went out the door.

***

“Professor Elric,” Miss Bloom called cheerfully and raised her hand to him, “I saved a seat for you,” she indicated the empty chair beside her.

Ed put on a forced smile and went over to sit beside the young woman, laying his notebook on the table and nodding to some of the others who nodded to him in acknowledgement. Miss Bloom was a ‘floating’ teacher’s aide and had come into his classroom on a few occasions to help him with some of the more mundane chores of teaching. He had been very relieved to turn over all ditto machine wrangling to her and credited her with his savings on white gloves. She was however, next to himself, the youngest person on staff. He supposed she considered them steadfast comrades because of this and she followed him around at any staff gathering like a duckling follows the mother duck. It was a bit embarrassing. Some of the older teachers would hide smiles behind their hands and Edward was always mortified.

He wanted to fling out that he was unavailable, that he had his life long partner in the form of a very upstanding General and was quite happy, thank you very much, but discretion had been every other word out of Roy’s mouth when Ed had taken the position. They had agreed that discretion was the key and really, it wasn’t anyone’s business for that matter. Only, he sometimes wanted people to know, especially on occasions like this, when it might save him from having to deal with the social awkwardness of a crush.

Not that he was crush worthy; he wasn’t sure what the young woman’s motives were, to be exact. He tried to stop her when she jumped up to get him a glass of water and sighed when Mrs. Hall across the table smiled at him. Thankfully, the Dean appeared then and parked his considerable girth at the end of the boardroom table. He fished out his pocket watch and nodded before tucking it back in the watch pocket on his vest.

“Thank everyone for being on time,” and he nodded directly at Ed, who scowled. Forget three lousy meetings and they never let you live it down. He was still new to this teaching thing; they should cut him some slack.

“Alright then,” the Dean said. He opened the folder that his secretary placed in front of him and pulled his glasses from his inner jacket pocket, forcing them down over the broad bridge of his nose. “Let’s see here, first order of business will be the school football team’s need for new pads,” the Dean looked up at Professor Taylor. Professor Taylor stood, immaculate in his sweats and perfect hair, and flashed his most winning smile.

“We have a good team this year,” he said and looked at the others like how could they expect any less. “I’m very confident we’ll do well in the pre and post season, so I expect to see everyone in the stands,” he gave a little laugh and shook his head like he was immensely amused with himself.

Ed just despised the man. He could feel his teeth grinding together the longer the man spoke about his coaching skills, his achievements and his own concerns about the safety of the boys. Oh well, he finally mentioned the boys at least. Ed looked sidelong as Miss Bloom who was looking at Professor Taylor in pretty much the same way she looked at him and that irked him just a little, but it had been a mistake, because she caught him looking, batted her eyelashes and smiled at _him_ , scooting a little closer.

“Football pads are expensive,” the Dean said at the end of Taylor’s speech. “Appropriating the funds for you means cutting something else.”

“Well what is there that could be cut,” Taylor asked.

The Dean fingered his chins for a moment and finally offered up.

“There is the annual exhibition,” the Dean said. “We didn’t get a lot of parental participation last year…”

“But that’s when I showcase the more promising band talent outside the stadium,” Dr. Thaxton interjected.

“Oh, what do they need it for,” Taylor said. “They can just play fight songs at the games. There’s plenty of parental participation there, and Jimmy and Sally can show off for mommy and daddy marching down the football field.”

“The garden club always has their tea social to raise money for the botanical trip each year at the exhibition,” Mrs. Wilton said. “Without that money, it might not be possible for everyone to go.”

“Can’t they go over to the woods behind the soccer field and look at plants there?” Taylor asked, giving her a condescending smile. “Really Katherine, boys going to look at _flowers_?”

“I think we should have a big alchemy exhibition at this year’s event,” a new voice said down the table, “that would be a big draw. The FullMetal Alchemist would be willing to perform.”

All eyes turned to him. Taylor sneered, but Thaxton and Wilton looked hopeful.

“I know a few other alchemists who might be willing to do it for the benefit of the school,” Ed said, elbows on table, fingers laced. “I know this is the first year of alchemy class at this Academy and I’m a brand new recruit, but I’d love to do what I can to help.” He gave Taylor a rather sharp smile, then glanced down at the Dean.

The Dean’s job was to make sure everyone had sufficient funding to feed the eager young minds of tomorrow. Already, he was calculating what sort of draw could be taken from the possibility of an alchemy demonstration held on school grounds.

“Some of the clubs could set up booths. With that kind of draw, everyone stands to earn a little class spending money,” Professor Sutton, the head of the geography department said.

“This could work to your advantage as well, Taylor. You could get your boys to do something as well and earn some money, or ask for donations,” the Dean laced his fingers over his belly and smiled. “I’ll send out the usual alumni requests, but if luck is with you, we could also parlay the money into other new sporting equipment. I think Professor Elric has a grand idea.”

The table started to chatter and Ed felt a slow smile. Taylor sank back down into his chair and nodded to the Dean but cut Edward a look. It didn’t matter, many of the others were now discussing their plans, nodding at Ed and smiling. He rather liked the feeling; it was almost like being in the big office again with Breda slapping him on the back, Fuery sharing his muffins, Havoc making jokes and Falman offering advice. He was becoming part of a group again and… it was _nice_.

“I think I’ll put Professor Elric in charge of the organization,” the Dean said from his end of the table. “Everyone arrange meetings with him with your suggestions and ideas. He’ll be able to present me with a list of expected expenditures and things needed to make this happen. We’ll also need a date and literature. Professor Elric, I trust you to handle all of this for us.”

Edward despised being part of a group, he worked much better on his own. Why had he opened his fucking big mouth?

***

Edward jogged up the stairs to the administration floor, grumbling to himself and making a mental checklist of the things he was going to need to be an event coordinator. As he headed down the hall, he saw a lone figure standing and looking up at a large wall map that detailed the territories of Amestris. As he got closer, he noticed the strange clothes the woman wore. She had long, straight, black hair to the middle of her back, caught up at the sides and pinned at the back of her head with an elaborate silver serpent pin. She was wearing a long, black robe that was belted in a wide, red, satin sash. Peeking from beneath the high collared robe, was shiny black pants that gathered at the ankle and black slippers. Edward noted that they were Xingian in design and wondered what a lone woman would be doing standing in the hallway of the military administration floor.

He walked directly behind her and slowed. He thought maybe he should question her credentials, ask to see her visitors badge, find out who she was looking for. After all, Roy worked on this floor and where the hell were the guards that usually manned the upper hallway? So he stopped and cleared his throat rather loudly.

When she turned, his eyebrows rose, for she was not a _she_ at all. The two young men regarded each other quizzically for long moments and then the Xingian man broke into a large grin.

“It’s so nice to see a non-uniformed face, it’s rather refreshing,” he said and advanced on Ed. “Are you lost as well, we could wander the complex together.”

“I’m not lost,” Ed said, taking a step back. “I’m known around here, but I’ve never seen you before. What are you doing here? Where did you come from?”

“I’m looking at a map,” the man said unhelpfully, “and I’m from Xing. You must be very cloistered not to recognize this, as my appearance is very charming and very helpful.”

Ed sputtered and scowled.

“I know you’re a Xingian, I meant where did you come from in _here_? You said you were lost? Were you on a tour or something? Where you at a meeting? You don’t have a visitors pass,” Ed tapped the breast of his own vest. “That’s a little suspicious.”

“Oh, I am not a suspicious person,” the man grinned merrily. “I came from a large meeting room, many people were there, but it was very boring. I decided to take a tour of the building. Since you are known here, why don’t you show me the more interesting rooms?”

“Some of the rooms are off limits,” Ed said. “You shouldn’t be just wandering around, what kind of meeting where you in? You might as well follow me to the General’s office, maybe he can sort out this mess.”

“I would be happy to follow you, a General’s office sounds like an interesting place to tour,” the man said, falling into step beside Ed. Ed ignored the fact his head barely cleared the man’s shoulder.

“It’s not a tour,” Ed said. “It’s a fact finding mission. To find out who the hell you are and why the hell you’re wandering around the halls.”

“Oh, I’m Ling,” the man said. “I was wandering the halls because I got lost.”

“You’re about as helpful as a nosebleed,” Ed groused.

“I’ve never known those to be helpful, just messy,” Ling said cheerfully as Edward led him down the hall.

***

The General wasn’t in his office. As a matter of fact, no one was in his office.

“This is rather odd,” Ed said. “I wonder where they’ve all gotten off too.”

“There is a large meeting in a large room somewhere in this building,” Ling said, “maybe he is there.”

“This is the same meeting you were at?” Ed asked.

“I don’t know, perhaps,” Ling said. “I do not know what the General’s like, could you describe him?”

“He’s about your height,” Ed said, “and he’s wearing a blue uniform.”

“We are back at the nosebleed part of this conversation,” Ling said. “Everyone here has on a blue uniform.”

“I know that,” Ed snapped, “let me finish a thought! He’s got black hair and dark eyes…”

“So do I,” Ling chirped.

“He’s got a lot of yellow stripes and stars on his shoulders,” Ed growled.

Ling turned his head back and forth and looked at his shoulders.

“I have failed you,” he sighed, “I am not the General.”

“I know that!” Ed yelled.

He pushed past Ling and back out into the hall. He heard voices at the far end and sighed in relief to see Roy and Havoc heading his way. They seemed to be discussing something urgently and peering into each doorway as they headed in the direction of the office.

Ling was suddenly at his shoulder.

“Those are men from the meeting,” Ling said. “They are both in blue uniforms with yellow stripes and stars. One of them has black hair and dark eyes,” he added.

Ed turned and scowled at him, and Roy suddenly called out.

“Your Highness, we’ve been searching everywhere for you. Your retainers are very worried,” he said.

Ed turned and furrowed his brow at Roy.

“Oh, hello,” Ling said. “Fancy seeing you again. We are touring a General’s office,” he stated. “This is my new friend, but I don’t know his name even though I have given him mine. He’s rather rude and short, but I like him anyway. How are you?”

“This is Edward Elric,” Roy said, rushing up and snatching Ed back as the blonde’s face had started to turn dark. “He’s an instructor at the military academy,” Roy said a bit strained as he struggled to hold Ed in place by his shoulders.

“Your Highness, why did you wander off?” Havoc asked. “That whole meeting was for your benefit, to welcome you as the representative for the Xingian embassy.”

“It was rather stuffy in the room and I got bored,” Ling said simply. “This building is very spacious. I have no doubt I could have wandered quite a while if I hadn’t run into Edward Elric. He was showing me this office.”

“Lieutenant Colonel, why don’t you escort Prince Ling back to the meeting, I need to have a word with Ed,” the General gritted out, dragging Ed into his office.

“Aw, I wanted to get to know him better,” the Prince said as Havoc half bowed and gestured for the man to lead him. “Well if the meeting was arranged for me, I suppose I should attend.”

“That would be the idea,” Havoc coaxed, “right this way.”

The General smiled and planted a hand on Ed’s face, shoving him back and closing the door of his office.

  
“Breathe,” Roy said, smiling. “It’s alright. The Prince is pretty blunt, as we’ve all found out,” Roy grinned.

“It’s just the perfect topper to my _splendid_ day,” Ed said sourly and started to scowl, but Roy’s mouth found his and covered it. Ed found he couldn’t argue with that and kissed him back.

“You know,” Ed purred when Roy pulled back, “I had fantasies about you and this office and that desk.”

“As very inviting as that is,” Roy whispered, “I’m afraid I have to get back to that meeting. You can languish on the couch and pine for me though.”

Ed laughed and Roy put an arm around his shoulders, drawing him deeper into the office.

“I want to hear all about your splendid day when I get back,” Roy said.

“Try to keep it short,” Ed wheedled, “I really want to get home.”

They stopped in front of the big desk and Roy released Ed with a sigh.

“Have you talked to Gracia about Al’s party today?” Ed asked. “I really want this to come off without a hitch. I also need to tell you about the exhibition,” Ed sighed.

“A party sounds splendid, who is Al? I also enjoy exhibitions,” a voice said behind them.

Roy and Edward both jumped and whirled, and the Prince grinned at them with a raised hand.

“Hello,” he said cheerfully, “I would like to attend your party and exhibition,” he nodded.

“How the hell did you get in here?” Ed screeched.

“Through the door,” Ling said guilelessly.

Roy grabbed Ed around the waist, grunting and forcing a smile over the struggling blonde’s head.

“Weren’t you heading back to the meeting, your Highness?” he asked.

“I was, but your office seemed more interesting, especially with Edward Elric in it,” Ling said and nodded pleasantly.

“Where is Lieutenant Colonel Havoc?” Roy asked and physically put himself between lover and Prince.

“That tall blonde fellow thinks I am in the bathroom, but there was a window there with a ledge. It wasn’t very wide, but simple enough to walk along. I went in a window at the far end of the hall,” the Prince pointed. “then I came back here.”

“You walked on a ledge on the outside of the building?” Roy gaped. “We’re three floors up!”

“I’m not afraid of heights,” the Prince said and clasped his hands behind his back.

“You’re a nutcase,” Ed said and stilled, so Roy released him. He brushed himself down and snorted. “All the Xingian royalty must be inbred.”

Roy winced but the Prince just smiled and tilted his head.

“When is the party so I may inform my secretary to remind me of the date,” Ling prompted.

“Who says you are invited?” Ed challenged.

“Of course you are invited,” Roy said loudly and gave Ed a _look_ when he whirled to glare at him.

“I am very eager to learn all about Amestris custom and culture, it will better further relations between our countries, don’t you think General?” the Prince never changed from his pleasantly smiling expression.

“Very astute, your Highness, just the sort of attitude a good ambassador should have,” the General said.

“But it’s a birthday party for my brother, he may not want you to attend,” Ed said haughtily. “He doesn’t even know you.”

“Of course he would want me to attend,” Ling said. “I’m a Prince; he will be honored to have royalty among his guests. I will graciously lend him my presence so later he may brag to his friends.”

Ed would have liked to tell Ling just where he could stuff his royal presence, but Roy’s hand fell heavily on his shoulder and Roy himself moved over to the Xingian man.

“Alphonse will be very honored, your Highness,” Roy said. “Now let me escort you back to our meeting.”

“I’m thinking an academy instructor would be an excellent cultural liaison,” the Prince said. “I would consider it your very much pleasure to assign him to escort me about the city.”

Ed’s jaw slammed into the floor with enough force to make the furniture jump.

“We’ll talk about that _in the meeting_ ,” Roy insisted with a smile on his face.

“Very well,” the Prince said. “This meeting seems very important to you and as a gentleman and royalty, I should be gracious of my host’s intentions. I will allow you to escort me back,” Ling said magnanimously.

Just then, the door flew open and Havoc stood framed in it, panting. He closed his eyes in relief and hung his head.

“We’re heading back now, Lieutenant Colonel,” the General said placatingly.

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” the Prince said to the Professor, who stood back scowling like a blonde wolverine, “and how pleasant for me to allow you to be my personal escort around the city.” Ling turned and walked past Roy, and Havoc moved out of his way to allow him into the hall.

Only a hard look from Roy stilled Ed’s vocal chords, then a sympathetic smile and wink was offered. Ed let himself be mollified and flopped onto the couch to await his lover’s release from the infernal meeting so they could go home.

***

They stopped at the deli and Ed ran in to get dinner for both of them. Roy had resigned himself to eating noodles with meat sauce every other day for the rest of his life or fighting Ed off his plate.

Ed climbed back in the car, carefully setting the box between them.

“Okay so, I was in this board meeting,” Ed said, starting up where he’d left off when they arrived at the deli, “and that bastard Taylor decides that nobody but the _sports_ department rates.”

“The horror,” the General said.

Ed gave him a flat look for a moment and the General grinned.

“Okay, haha,” Ed said, “There was talk of the school not having its annual exhibition so the money could be given to Taylor for football pads, but the other clubs depend on the exhibition to raise money for their club outings, and that fucker Taylor wants to take that away. I spoke up and said we could make the exhibition a better event this year, I suggested that we could hold an alchemy demonstration,” he continued. “I mean, I can whip up a couple of large sculptures for them to ooh and aah over and you can roast something. Maybe I can talk Al into doing something as well, but that’s when the bastard Dean decided I should be in charge of the whole damn event.” Ed snorted.

“I’m afraid I have to decline,” the General said softly, eye straight ahead as usual when he drove.

“What?” Ed yelped. “But I need you! Besides, your popularity is slipping. Most of the kids in my class hadn’t even heard of The Flame Alchemist and the other half only know you as their Dad’s boss.”

“My control isn’t what it used to be,” Roy said a little tightly.

“So you’ve gotten rusty, that’s not a problem,” Ed said smoothly. “We can practice in the back yard.”

The General’s hands worked the steering wheel a moment, squeezing and rubbing with his thumbs.

“Practice in the back yard isn’t going to help, Ed,” he said finally.

“Roy, I _need_ you, you’re one of the flashiest alchemists around,“ Ed cajoled. “The kids will be very impressed and their parents will remember you as being The Flame Alchemist, and they are the ones with the money. You used to light Havoc’s cigarettes while they were hanging out of his mouth.” Ed leaned toward him. “I’ll help, I’ll make it worth your while,” he purred.

Roy took a couple of deep breaths and never looked toward Ed once, keeping his eyes on the road.

“I lit Havoc’s cigarettes when I had depth perception,” the General finally said. “That only comes with two eyes.”

Ed blinked in surprise and leaned back. He wasn’t quite sure what to say in that moment. Only now was it occurring to him that since his time back, he’d never seen Roy practice any alchemy. Surely that was a mistake, but his memory was known to be pretty accurate. He shifted in embarrassed silence, now. He, of all people, should have realized this.

“I’m sorry,” Ed said after a few moments, “I didn’t think, Roy. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s alright, Ed,” Roy said and smiled. “I’m flattered you thought of me when planning your exhibition. I’m sorry to have to disappoint you; I’ll make a donation in lieu of my participation, if that’s acceptable.”

Ed nodded and pulled his bottom lip in, looking out the passenger side window. Although there had been some initial argument over the eye patch in bed with them, Ed just accepted it now. It was a part of Roy, he was particular about it. Ed had given up, for the most part, asking for the right to see his whole face without the black oval covering most of his cheek. A couple of times when Ed had woken first and it had been skewed in the night as the General slept, he’d tried to ease it over and see what lay beneath it, but the General was sensitive to touch in that area, probably from the practice of making sure the patch stayed in place. Ed was always thwarted when he either rolled over or woke up. It reminded Ed that the General has said that one day Ed would be allowed to take the patch, but it was not an issue to press right now, with Roy forcing a smile and staring straight ahead.

“Your driving is fine,” Ed ventured, “that requires depth perception.”

“It’s a little different,” Roy said. “I just keep a good distance between myself and the person in front of me.”

Ed nodded and reached over to tangle his fingers in a uniform sleeve, which that provoked a genuine smile.

“I really wanted to see you dance again,” Ed said and laid his head back on the seat.

“Dance?” Roy said, risking a quick sidelong look at his lover.

“You were always such a showman,” Ed said. “You’d spin and throw your arms out, your butt skirt would flair, it was great,” he finished with a little embarrassed grin. “I always thought you were cool.”

Roy laughed and relaxed, his grin fluid and easy.

“The Flame was cool? Isn’t that a contradiction?” Roy teased.

“What did I know,” Ed returned, “I was thirteen and you were cool. When you’re thirteen, everything is cool.”

“Those kids are rubbing off on you,” the General laughed.

***  
When they got home, Ed carried dinner to the kitchen while Roy took R.D. out.

When the General came in with his little black and white shadow, Ed had dinner unpacked, the table set and the tea pitcher in his hand.

“You never told me what you said to that Prince about me being his personal escort,” Ed said. “You told him to stick his head up his ass, right?”

The General went over and wrapped an arm around Ed’s waist, kissing him soundly.

“Dinner smells great,” he said, unbuttoning his uniform jacket, shrugging it off and hanging it over the back of his chair.

“Roy,” Ed said, “you told him where to stick it, right?” A golden eyebrow rose.

“I’m exhausted, let’s discuss it later,” the General smiled. “Don’t worry, you don’t think I’d order you to do something like that.”

Ed smiled, set the pitcher down on the table and slid into his chair.

“Good,” Ed said. “I’m not military anymore at any rate, and I’d hate to have to kick your ass from here to Xing, along with his.”

The General just gave him another smile.

***

Ed had been predatory since dinner when he'd leaned across the table, offering noodles on the end of his fork and then just watched Roy take them. His gaze hovered right at the smoldering point, intense and thoughtful. It had followed Roy to the living room, where he took up position on the couch like a big cat, with his chin propped on the armrest. He slowly scratched at a throw pillow with one of his steel fingers, making a sound that was low and lingering in the stillness of the room while Roy tried to read his paper. It was just a hint of annoying, enough to keep Roy glancing in his direction, which is of course what he wanted. The General began to feel that feeling in the pit of his stomach. Edward stretched then and rolled onto his back, laying there where Roy couldn't see his expression. Edward had become very savvy at luring his prey close enough to strike.

So when he finally stood, stretched and made a production of shaking out his hair before stalking toward the hallway, Roy tried his best to resist, knowing this for what it was: a coy dominance struggle in the making. He wondered what he'd have to do to be allowed to rest tonight and tried to put off his fate until after the political section, but by then, Edward had been gone for a good five minutes and when he was left alone at times when he felt like this, the conquering could be excruciatingly slow. He would feel the need for vengeance, because his mate was denying him. So, in surrender, the General abandoned his paper and stood, telling himself to face this fate head on, because nothing would deter Edward now that he'd made his decision. In this, his determination was a damning thing to Roy.

He padded slowly down the hallway and his hand hovered briefly on the doorknob, but he knew it was inevitable. He'd best put in an appearance. An Edward scorned was a Roy sleeping on the couch later, and he surely didn't want that. When he pushed open the door, the room was dark and there was a brief rustle on the bed. Moonlight dabbled in the window, cast crooked shadows across the floor and hovered nervously at the edges of the sheets.

"Took your goddamn time," a voice growled, low and husky from the darkness, "I guess I'm losing my appeal now that you can have it whenever you want."

"Such nonsense," the General whispered, moving into the room proper, "I'm here and ready for my penance, I know I should have followed you sooner."

"Not good enough," the voice said, dropping from growl to mere menace, "if you want to lie beside me, there are things you'll have to do now."

The General licked his lips, every nerve beginning to tingle.

"You know I am your creature, I don't know why you think I'll object. Tell me what you want, if it's in my power, it’s yours," he said lowly.

"I hate your clothes," the voice offered.

The General began to remove them, not in hurried, jerking motions of eagerness, but with a slow slide born of age and grace. He let them pool, piece by piece, on the floor at his feet until he stood bare, with only the shadow to clothe him. He lifted his eye and took in the silhouette on the bed that was sitting up now. When he heard the slide of sheets on bare skin, his cock stirred and he willed it to be calm yet. This predator took great glee in signs of weakness, and a quick hard-on was like baring his throat.

"That's better," the voice conceded, "but still not good enough. I need more than just your naked body, as much as I appreciate it. You may come and sit on the bed beside me now, but only sitting up, and if I touch you, you have to be still. Can you do that?" the voice murmured.

"I can do whatever you wish of me," Roy murmured. "You know you hold my soul as well as my heart," he moved slowly toward the bed.

Golden eyes flashed then, picking up the moonlight as they traveled his body, causing him undesirable goose bumps, but what was he to do? He was a helpless thing before this man and he sat slowly on the edge of the bed beside Ed's knees, waiting to see how accountable Edward was going to hold him for his actions, for not immediately following the offering made so blatant in the living room.

"Very good," Edward said. Roy felt him shift and then there was a cool slide down his back, a metallic finger tracing the edge of his spine. He couldn't move, he was forbidden to move, so he bit down hard on his lower lip and willed his mind to focus on that, as the finger stopped at the crest of his ass and drew a lazy circle.

"You're being so compliant this evening, so obedient. I wonder what I've done to warrant your very good behavior," Edward's voice was both punishing and promising. Roy swallowed hard and wondered if he was allowed to speak. Speech was movement and movement was forbidden, if he did forbidden things, Edward would get angry and perhaps stop this delightful torture. He didn't want it to end before it even began.

"Scoot back some and lie down on the bed," Edward's voice urged him, "get as comfortable as you like, my General," he purred.

Roy scooted back and then slowly lowered himself cross wise on the bed. Edward had moved his feet helpfully and was now sitting on his knees, watching hungrily. He reached out when Roy was prone and his flesh hand hovered above Roy's now obvious erection, but he curled his fingers suddenly and pulled his hand away.

"No," he said, "no, I'll not touch you yet, at least not there, or with this hand," and so he slid his metal finger from Roy's navel to the divot in his throat. Roy fought hard to keep from swallowing and pressing his body upward to this wanted, hard touch. Edward leaned over him then, his lips brushing the nub of Roy's nipple. His tongue came out slowly to make a friend of it and then to make a lover of it. He made his noises that worked their way through every vein in Roy's body, setting him ablaze, as he could not set anything ablaze with fire or alchemy. It was sheer hell, lying silent and unmoving while this man, his lover, his life, touched him and tasted him and groaned, reveling in his mastery and control. Roy allowed himself a grit of his teeth at least, he could do it with his lips closed, and he felt the first trickle of sweat on the back of his neck. He longed to rub it in the sheets and be rid of it. Finally, Edward took mercy on him, lifting his treacherous, hot mouth and cold, metal hand, to reach up and push back his heavy, golden bangs and give a little pant.

Evil child, evil man, as cruel a master as any Roy had known and the only one allowed to be so close to his very essence.

"I want you to touch yourself," the shadow above him hissed, "and I want you to make it nice and slow. I want you to show me how much you like it when I tell you to do these things, I want to hear my name on your lips as you grip your cock and I want to hear what you want to do to me while you stroke it," the voice in the velvet blackness instructed. "Can you do that for me, General?" it questioned.

"I am your creature," he barely got out of his throat, "if you wanted me to pull my heart out of my chest and give it to you, then it would be yours..."

Roy reached down, only to have his hand stopped before he actually touched his turgid cock. The voice returned, haunting and seeking.

"And yet, you hold from me that damn eye patch," it challenged, "give it to me now, right now, I want it. If you give it to me, I will touch you and cry your name and do as you ask of me. Let me have it, General," the demon bargained.

He drew several heavy breaths and closed his remaining eye tight. Damn him, damn him to heaven, damn him to hell. He knew better than to ask this! Why was he always like this?! Why did he always make these childish, irrational demands just when Roy was at his weakest to resist him? Fucking brilliant, manipulative little shit is what he was, and he learned so at Roy's own feet. Damn him for this and damn him for making Roy even think of being free of the patch and being pleasured beyond endurance for doing so. Damn him and love him. He would eventually have to let him win, but not tonight and maybe not even while he lived. Edward could have his eye patch at his funeral.

"No," the General grated out. "I refuse," he gasped.

"Have it your way then," the voice was heavy with disappointment and he knew the golden eyes had watched him intensely, "but you better make this damn good, General. It better be a show I remember the rest of my days," Edward growled.

"Let go of my hand," the General said and Edward released him, but moved up closer, until his knees touched he General's side.

"Bend your knees and put you feet flat on the bed," Edward commanded and helpless to him, the General obeyed. He ran his palm down the length of his cock and curled his fingers over his balls.

Edward's flesh hand rested on his knee and his metal hand rested on his shoulder. The points of contact they made on his skin burned and froze, sending agonizing prickles along his nerves. The General pressed his own balls a moment, before moving his hand back up, trailing his fingertips up his hardness, to the head and curling them around it, stroking the pad of his thumb over his slit. He heard Edward take a deep breath and could feel the heat and intent of Edward's gaze on his hand and his cock as he pressed the slit, stroking it and swallowing hard. Edward might be his master, his predator and his conqueror, but he would not just go quietly; he would pull the man down with him.

He slowly began to slide his curled fingers downward, splaying his hand at the base, with fingertips over his balls. Then, with slowness agonizing to himself, he curled his fingers around his cock again and dragged them upwards. His eye fought hard to make out Edward's features in the gloom, and he saw the tongue that snaked out to wet Edward's lips as he felt the increasing press of his fingers. He began the slow torture again: down and back up, his own breath catching in his throat, an unwanted moan escaping him. Edward was restless now, shifting on his knees, fighting for his own control, and the General smiled a wicked smile as he stroked again, down and up. He let his moan come easily this time, watching it rack raw over Edward's body. The younger man cringed from it and pressed Roy's knee further to the side.

Roy's free hand was flattened on his stomach and it too moved downward slowly, fingers dragging though dense, black curls that lay tight and rough above his cock. He tilted his knees even further apart without the pressure of Ed’s hand, and his second hand passed his first, sliding beneath his balls to lift them. He raised his head to watch his own handy work and Edward better, but Edward had no glance to spare for his face. His lips were parted now, he was riveted and so the General began to move faster and moan louder.

Up and down, both hands pulled and squeezed. He lifted his hips, tilted back his head and he opened his mouth, "Edward, ah god, Ed, sweet god..." he closed his eye, "ah Edward, so good like this..."

Edward's fingers tightened almost painfully on his shoulder, the hand on his knee began to move its palm in a circular motion on his kneecap and his breathing was becoming erratic.

"Do you know what I want to do to you?" the General husked, "You should know, I always want to do it to you. I love to hear you scream, I love to see you claw the sheets. You're so fucking beautiful when I'm fucking you," the General growled. "I know you want me on you this instant, this second. Tell me I lie," he hissed.

Edward swallowed and Roy felt a definite tremble though his fingers.

"Not a lie," Ed whispered raggedly.

Roy tightened his grip and picked up his pace.

"If you don't release me, I can't do that," the General crooned, "if you leave me like this, imagining you and jerking myself raw, I can't fuck you. You want me to fuck you, don't you?" he coaxed.

"Damn you, stop it, I want... I want… this... not you..." Edward fought him, he always fought him.

"No, you want me, you want me inside you. Release me, Edward," the General persisted, "or I'm going to come before I get to satisfy you," he growled.

Ed threw his head back and Roy looked at Ed's own cock at attention. Edward struggled with himself, grimacing as he pushed and pulled on Roy's knee hard. Roy never let up his pace, in fact he increased it, and no longer tried to school his pants or groans.

"AH! God, I'm close," he managed to get out, "and I'm imagining you now. It's good like this. Better inside you, but I can do it like this to your image..." the General gasped.

Edward's hands left his shoulder and knee, grabbed Roy's hands on his cock and balls, and pulled them, "Let GO," he commanded in a snarl. Roy obeyed immediately, chest heaving, swallowing hard.

"Get the fuck on ME," Edward commanded, unfolding himself and falling to his back, spreading his legs wide, "Do it NOW," he howled.

Roy chuckled low and wicked, heaved himself up right and crawled between Ed's legs. He stretched over him for the oil on the bedside table.

"NOW," Ed's hands gripped his hips hard, but Roy would never be tempted to harm him, even at his insistence, so Edward was forced to buck and writhe to three fingers for a few moments while he was prepared.

Then the General sat up on is knees and slid his hands behind Edward's. He lifted, folded and hooked them over his shoulders, then his own trembling hands guided himself against Edward's cleft. He dragged out the moment, sliding the swollen head of his cock down the slope; Edward screamed and railed at him, but the power struggle had been lost.

Roy wasn't a General for nothing.

He gained entrance and then pushed slowly, feeling his lover relax all around him, accepting him. It was as it always was: bliss beyond knowing and he began to pump. One hand raised and gripped Edward's knee, the other hand lowered and gripped Edward's cock, and Ed threw his arms out to his sides _(it was just his habit to do this; he did it ever time Roy rode him)_ as he slammed his head over and over into the pillow.

"YOU FUCKIN' BASTARD, WHY DO YOU ALWAYS DO THIS?! WHY CAN'T I WIN?!" he howled and writhed and sobbed.

"Simple," Roy snarled, "Age before beauty, you know the rules," the General growled.

He rode Ed with an ever increasing pace and the blonde howled insults, sobbed endearments and came all over his own stomach, dragging the General over with him. When they both lay panting in the aftermath, Edward shoved at him, then clung to him, and Roy grinned before soon falling asleep.

***

Roy sprung it on him the next morning when they were on the thoroughfare and Ed couldn’t get away.

“I think it’s a very good idea for you to show the Prince around the city,“ the General said. “Take him to lunch, you’d be doing me a great favor.”

“WHAT?!” Ed exploded. “I hardly think so, if you like him so much, YOU do it,” he snarled.

“He was quite adamant that he wanted you to escort him,” the General continued calmly. “I did offer him Havoc, and Havoc will back me up on that, but he insisted on you.”

“You can’t order me to do it,” Ed hissed. “So I have to decline.”

“No, I can’t and I wouldn’t…” the General said and gave Ed a sidelong glance.

“But…” Ed inserted for him.

“The Dean will,” the General said solemnly.

“YOU FUCKIN’ BASTARD,” Ed shrieked. “You set me up! Your own lover! You offered me to that Xingian bastard like offering a crying baby a rattle! I can’t believe this! OH you are so not getting any for a LONG, LONG time!” Ed shook his fist in Roy’s direction. “I hope you enjoyed last night, and you just… you fuckin’ did that to me knowing you were going to do THIS to me,” Ed slammed himself back against the seat. “I hate you,” he spat.

They pulled up in front of the academy. Ed snatched his briefcase up off the floorboard, unbuckled his seat belt and the General gripped his arm, yanking him close.

“You bastard,” his lover growled.

“But a bastard you’ll still give tongue to,” the General said and kissed him, then let him escape through the open car door.

***

The Professor glanced up from his desk to see the class looking toward the door, so he looked too. His face darkened with a scowl.

“Hello,” the Prince said. “I’ve come to see your credentials as an instructor.”

The Professor jumped up from his desk and opened his mouth, but managed to rein himself in at the last possible second. Instead, he stalked toward the grinning man in the Xingian robes and pushed him out the door.

“Daniel,” the Professor said. “I need to speak to this gentleman in the _hall_. I expect everyone to be quiet and continue their studying while I do so.”

Then the Professor went out the door and pulled it shut with a little slam.

“Great,” Daniel sighed. “Make me the snitch.”

***

“You can’t just come walking into my class,” Ed said low and heatedly in the hall. “I’m working and my students do not need to be disturbed.”

“I wasn’t disturbing them,” the Prince smiled. “I was merely observing. It was several moments before any of them saw me. Tell me what you teach.” He grinned merrily and clasped his hands behind his back.

“I teach alchemy,” Ed started. “Wait a minute. How did you even get in here and where is your visitor’s badge? You can’t just wander the halls as you like, we have rules! Don’t they have rules where you come from?”

“Well they do,” Ling said. “But I make them. I rarely follow them, rules are so constricting, don’t you think?”

Ed started to open his mouth, but that is when he noticed the woman. Slight and lovely, her black hair was pulled behind her head in a tight ponytail. Her ornate robes were black like the prince’s, but embroidered heavily in black thread with whirling pattern of dragons. Ed gaped at her; he’d neither heard her approach nor even realized she was there to begin with.

“This is one of my retainers,” the Prince said. “Her name is Ran Fan. This is Edward Elric,” he said, turning slightly to the woman.

She gave Edward a formal, half bow, then looked up at the Prince.

“Your Highness,” she said softly. “You shouldn’t be wandering away on your own. I ask you humbly to return with me to our rooms.”

“Edward Elric is taking me to lunch,” the Prince announced. “You may come too.”

“Very well then,” she said. “I will be most glad to escort you and the Professor.”

“Wait a minute,” Ed said waving his hands back and forth. “I didn’t say anything about taking anyone to lunch! I’m a busy man; I have an event to coordinate!” He liked the word ‘coordinate’, it sounded more important than ‘plan’.

“You can do that after lunch,” the Prince said. “It is your very much pleasure to take us to lunch,” Ed was informed. “We were informed it would be so.”

Ran Fan nodded agreement to her Prince’s words.

Roy Mustang was going to pay for this, yes he was. He was going to pay and pay and pay. When he was through paying? He’d pay some more.

“Fine,” Ed hissed. “I’ll meet you on the front steps at noon. Now excuse me, I have a class to _teach_ ,” he emphasized.

“I’ll help you,” the Prince said, moving to follow him in the door. “Your students could benefit greatly from the tutorage of a Prince.”

“No,” Ed said. “You can’t help me. I mean, I don’t need your help. Just go with…” but Ed stopped because the woman was gone.

Ed turned a complete circle, but it was almost as if she had never been there. He looked at the Prince with his mouth hanging open.

“There are many things we can teach each other,” the Prince said. “I will allow you to introduce me to your students; I will even allow them to speak with me.”

Ed scowled and yanked the classroom door open, stomping in. The Prince followed behind and pulled the door shut.

***

Alphonse cleaned out his desk slowly. He lingered over the task far longer than necessary and for the briefest of moments he considered, just _considered_ , asking the Colonel to extend his contract another year.

The military was, in many respects, like his family. They were always there for him and they had provided for him in his time of need. They had made his life neat and orderly and efficient.

The thought of being truly on his own was rather alien to Al. He had been part of a unit, whether it was he and his brother, or he and his fellow officers, for all his life. He considered himself a bit of a hypocrite, alternately wanting to be on his own, but still wanting to be watched over in some aspect. Well he had Ed for the ‘watch over’ part. His elder brother did it with zealous glee and wouldn’t deprive him of that.

At the end of next week, he would be on a train for Central. He was being accompanied by the Colonel, who was attending the birthday party his brother and the General were throwing, so he was at least glad for that. Getting to ride on the train with the Colonel was a wonderful bonus. It was probably the best birthday present he could have, inadvertently delivered into his lap by said Pirate and brother.

Ed had sounded frazzled on the phone last night. He had spilled out all his extra duties at school and his sudden cultural attaché assignment. He apologized repeatedly that the ‘Xingian mooching bastard’ would be at his party, but Al had assured him it was quite alright and that he even looked forward to meeting an actual Prince. Ed had just groaned and said that was playing right into that ‘insufferable sneaky Xingian bastard’s’ hands. From the way Ed complained about him, it sounded a lot like Ed complaining about the Pirate. Ed must like the man and be in complete denial about it. He never surrendered gracefully to friendships; the person wishing to be his friend had to beat him into it.

Despite the fact that he would be a free man in a week and a half’s time, Alphonse still had a lot of projects on the table. He and the Colonel had already decided which of the projects he would be hired on to finish and which he would turn over to Parkerson in the labs department. They were really all his pets and he didn’t like the fact he had to give some of them up, but that was a sacrifice to his freedom. Freedom never came cheaply.

Nothing had ever come cheaply, to be honest. It was just as well. He stood up and carried the file folder box out of his tiny office and down the hall to the big office, bringing it over to Pharr who was sitting at the big table. He lingered in front of the mail cabinet.

“We’re going to miss you around here,” Pharr said. “It won’t be the same.”

“Don’t say that,” Al said. “I’ll still be working here, it’s not like I’ll be gone for good.”

“It’s only a matter of time,” Pharr said. “You’re too smart to cool your heels around this old office. There are plenty of opportunities and new ventures waiting out there for the likes of you. You’ll be eighteen, sir, that’s a big time in your life.”

Al smiled at the man and sat down across from him.

“But there is one good thing about it,” Pharr said, grinning.

“What’s that?” Al asked.

“I can call you ‘Al’,” Pharr laughed.

***

  
Ling handed Edward the bill, leaned down and kissed him soundly on his right cheek. Ed’s hand flew up to cover the area, then he scrubbed it hard with his glove, scowling.

“What the hell was that for!?” he snapped.

“That is a custom in my country, when someone provides you with a meal,” the Prince smiled pleasantly and inclined his head.

“Well that’s not how we do things here,” Ed groused. “Keep your foreign lips to yourself… she’s not going to kiss me too, is she?” Ed looked warily at Ran Fan.

“Oh, she can if she likes, I don’t mind,” the Prince said.

“I do!” Ed exclaimed. “Look, you want to know about Amestris culture, here’s the first clue: don’t go around kissing everyone!”

“Really? That’s a pity, what an unfriendly culture,” the Prince turned and frowned at Ran Fan. She bowed her head a bit.

“I’m supposed to pay for it all?” Ed asked, waving the check. “You’re a Prince, aren’t you rich or something?”

“That may be, but our currency is not accepted here,” Ling said. “You don’t mind, do you?” He tilted his head.

Ed grumbled and fished out his wallet, leaving cens with ample tip on the table.

“What I mind is filling out a requisition form, because the state is paying for your mooching ass, not me,” he snorted.

They both stood staring at him, the Prince grinning like a loon and the woman unreadable.

“Well okay then,” Ed said. “I’ll be going.”

“Tomorrow we’d like to try a different restaurant,” the Prince said. “Perhaps a moving picture show. We’ve heard many good things about them, haven’t we?” he looked again to Ran Fan.

She just nodded solemnly.

“What? What? No, I took you to lunch, “ Ed said. “So that’s it. I’ve got a class to teach and an event…”

“To coordinate, yes I know,” Ling said. “What moving picture show do you recommend?”

“I’m not the one to ask,” Ed said. “Ask Havoc, he goes all the time now that he’s got a girlfriend,” Ed waved them off. “I’m going now,” he reminded them.

They stood and watched him walk off.

“To what clan do you attribute this custom of a kiss in thanks for a meal?” Ran Fan said, the corner of her mouth tilting up slightly.

“To the clan of his irresistible charm. You know how I am with temptation,” the Prince returned.

“No, it’s how temptation is with you, Highness,” Ran Fan said smoothly. “You are its veritable slave; it’s such a disgrace for royalty.”

The Prince shrugged easily and tilted his head toward her.

“What will you do with me?” he asked.

“The same thing I always do with you,” she returned. “Follow you and make sure you don’t get killed. As for the other, who am I to question.”

“Just think,” the Prince said, starting off, Ran Fan falling into step slightly behind and to his left, “all the other consorts would be jealous, and they are women.”

“You have this disturbing habit to be led by things you shouldn’t,” Ran Fan sighed.

“Do I make your life hard?” the Prince asked.

“No Highness, you make it interesting.”

Ling smirked and hailed them a cab.  



	10. Chapter 10

He saw their baggage checked and made his way onto the passenger car. There was no way to hide the broad grin that split his face when she waved her hand to him, indicating she’d secured them a booth and was saving his seat. He shrugged off the strap of his shoulder bag and put it on the rack above them before taking the bench opposite her, sliding down to sit directly across from her.

“I’m becoming a regular visitor to the General’s house,” the Colonel said with her slight smile. “Not that I’m complaining, the occasions have been very pleasant.”

Al squirmed a bit in delight that the Colonel was counting his pending birthday party as a ‘pleasant occasion’. Not that the two-day trip to Central with her wasn’t present enough, but he rather wished such an elaborate party hadn’t been planned, that it would just be he, the Colonel, his brother and the Pirate, like it had been during the holidays. There was something satisfying about the arrangement that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, those days they spent together in the General’s house, like a family.

But Edward’s excitement at his departure from ‘military servitude’ was cause for this celebration and Al would never begrudge his brother the delight of it. It was warming in all the right ways that Ed wanted to do this for him, and he was guaranteed to have a good time with everyone being there. Plus, there was to be a Prince and several high-ranking military officials. It was rather prestigious and Alphonse found himself rather flattered, but most importantly, it would all look good in the eyes of the Colonel and that was whom he was really out to impress.

As if reading his very thoughts, the Colonel spoke up.

“I understand the Xingian Prince and Ambassador is to be attending your party,” she said. “That is a great honor. It also means I will have to work extra hard to make sure the drunken revelry is kept to a low roar.”

They both laughed then, although Alphonse had no memory of the evening at the holiday office party and often wondered just what he had done. He’d often thought of asking her, but was terrified it would be embarrassing beyond all compare. But still, he would really like to know.

“Colonel,” he said bravely, “about the office party. I remember some of it, but past a certain point everything is fuzzy.” He was willing his cheeks not to redden, fighting the growing heat in his chest so it didn’t travel to his face.

“I’m not surprised,” she answered smoothly. “You were very…” she waved her hand and her smile grew a little broader, “uninhibited by the end of the evening.”

The heat in his chest made a mad dash for his cheeks and he almost groaned because he could _feel_ them reddening. He forced his hands to stay at his sides and he tried to give a carefree smile, but felt it was more aghast than anything else.

“I hope I didn’t do anything untoward,” he managed. “Or embarrassing, I’m sorry if I caused you any trouble.”

“It wasn’t you,” the Colonel said. “Everyone was having a good time, it’s alright Alphonse.”

She let if go at that and he was so grateful he wanted to thank her, but in the end he didn’t, turning to look out the train window as the car lurched slightly and they began to depart.

***

The boys watched the Professor plow through the paperwork on his desk with a crazed look around him. He’d pick up a paper, study it and then look at the several messy stacks he already had on his desk before holding it over one and then another, his face perplexed.

Earlier, the Professor had stood in the hall with one of the other teachers for a while and ran back in for his notebook, pen and to give them all a scathing ‘behave you’ look.

He glanced up to see several of the students looking at him. Gavin had been running a secret betting pool about which stack a particular paper would go in and how many times it would change stacks before the next paper was contemplated. So far the house bets were doing well.

The Professor had a slight stare off with them and many of them wondered if the Professor was seeing them at all, but he blinked and spoke.

“You lot don’t have anything to do?” he said, low and menacing.

Several sets of eyes dropped to their notebooks and pencils took up moving. The Professor sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“No, look,” he said, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy this week, I just keep giving you textbook assignments. I promise after this event is out of the way, we’ll get back into more hands-on work.”

Seth raised his hand tentatively.

Ed nodded to him and leaned forward on his desk a little to let the boy know he really was interested and not just humoring him.

“What alchemists are coming to the exhibition?” Seth asked with a shy smile.

“Oh well, do you want me to ruin the surprise?” the Professor asked.

 _Because so far it’s just me._

Seth squirmed around in his seat, obviously not wanting to be surprised, but too polite to press the issue.

 _Alex will say yes, PLEASE let Alex say yes._

“The Strong-Arm Alchemist mostly likely will be there,” the Professor sort of mumbled off at the end. “I’m going to have to find time to contact a few others.”

“The Blade Alchemist?” Gavin said excitedly from the back.

“Um, I haven’t really spoken to him,” the Professor said.

 _Whoever he is._

Daniel’s hand shot into the air. Now that the Professor was chatting, he could no longer sit on his own surprise, _(and OH how he wanted the envy directed at him)_.

“Daniel?” the Professor said.

“My father got an invitation to your brother’s birthday party,” Daniel said, puffing out his chest. “He’s General Stanton you know, he said I could come too.”

The class let out a collective gasp of jealousy and awe.

 _Daniel, Daniel, DANIEL. Why did you feel the need to do this? Well because you are thirteen and a bit of a braggart… just like I was at that age…_

The rest of the class swung pleading eyes in Ed’s direction and it was his turn to squirm in his seat.

 _Al… will you forgive me?_

“You’re all invited… of course,” the Professor managed to smile. “You can extend the invitation to your parents. Let me know tomorrow who is coming and who needs directions?” his smile was becoming a bit strained.

He then had to wave his hands and hiss loudly at the whoop that sounded around the room.

 _Insanity... it’s just insanity. Roy is going to kill me._

“Will that funny Xing guy be there?” Richard asked.

“Yes,” Edward drawled, “and he’s a Prince. I know he doesn’t act it; in fact he acts barely older than you lot, but he is a Prince. I would appreciate it that if you come to the party, you make sure to call him Prince. Although, he didn’t seem to mind being called ‘Xing Guy’ and… what was it you called him Duffy?”

“Percy,” Duffy said with a grin.

“Right. But still, it would look back on General Mustang if you were to behave badly at this party,” Ed said. “So everyone needs to be polite.”

“Why General Mustang?” Daniel asked.

“Because it is his house,” Ed said.

“I thought it was your house, why are you having your brother’s birthday party at General Mustang’s house?” Daniel pressed.

 _oh…_

“Well,” the Professor said, “I live there too and so does Al when he’s in town.”

“Why don’t you have your own house?” Daniel said.

“I’ve known General Mustang since I was 11. He was my sponsor when I became a State Alchemist and my brother and I were orphans, so he took us in,” Ed said.

 _Well, that’s partially true._

“Oh,” Daniel said, “so he’s like your dad.”

The Professor made a very visible wince and then forced an overly bright smile.

“Yeah,” he gritted out, “I guess you could say that.”

The boys sort of shrugged at each other.

***

Ed ran up the last flight of steps to the administration offices and down the hall with his head down, furious in thought.

When he walked into the office he lifted his head and stopped just inside the doorway.

The General looked up at him and smiled. A Xingian Prince, seated in front of the General’s desk, turned in his chair and grinned.

“Hello,” Ling said with his closed eyes amusement, “we are discussing policy, come and have a seat.” He graciously indicated the chair to his left.

“It’s the General’s call who he invites in on his conversations,” Ed said with a growl and caught Roy’s eye.

Roy smiled, shook his head and nodded at the chair, so Ed stalked over and slouched down into it, dropping his briefcase. He really needed to tell Roy about the extra 100 or so people he just inadvertently invited to the party, and he wanted to be chewed out in private, not in front of this insufferable Prince.

“How was class today?” the General asked when Ed was more or less settled.

“I really have something to tell you,” and Ed glanced at Ling, “in private.”

“You can be assured whatever you have to say goes no further than this desk,” the Prince said cheerfully. “As royalty, I am well versed in the art of discretion.”

“Blackmail, most likely,” Ed snorted.

“Is something wrong, Edward?” Roy asked. Ed turned to him, sighed and shrugged. It wasn’t like it was a state secret.

“I think I accidentally invited a lot more people. One of the boys in my class’ father is a General. They got an invitation and he had to brag about it…” Ed sighed.

Roy hid a smile behind his hand and feigned a cough. It was rather touching to him how Ed was attached to his students. Of course if one came, Ed would invite them all, and that meant parents and siblings and… who knew? Ed was famous; Al’s party was getting to the verge of infamy already and the guest of honor hadn’t even arrived yet.

“I’ll notify the caterer,” Roy said. “Gracia will have to be told; you might get a scolding from her,” the General gave a smile. “But the tent shouldn’t be a problem. We’ll just have them bring more chairs.”

Ed seemed to wilt in relief, then remembered the Prince was there and straightened back up.

“In the palace, many lavish ceremonies are held,” the Prince said. “Perhaps I can return the favor of your invitation someday and have you attend a royal banquet. The guest list is extensive and the celebration can last for many days.”

It was unexpectedly nice of him and Ed was caught flatfooted, but the General smiled.

“We’re honored, Your Highness. Perhaps someday we can attend,” he said.

Ling only smiled his enigmatic smile and inclined his head a bit, and then he shattered the moment.

“Where are you taking me for lunch?” the Prince asked the Alchemist.

***

“Help me get more alchemists for the exhibition,” Ed pleaded in the car on the way home. “You should know the Prince isn’t looking for a cultural liaison, he’s looking for free lunch!”

The General grinned.

“How can you be so calm?” Ed said. “We have a _major_ party in just four days, I have an exhibition _no one_ is participating in, I have to coordinate this whole affair on TOP of having to escort his royal pain-in-the-ass to lunch every day and all you can do is sit there and grin at me?! We have caterers and waiters and bartenders! We have a band that Alex is supplying and a tent to go in the backyard and chairs…” Ed panted slightly.

“Everything will be fine,” the General soothed. “Gracia and Elysia will be here tomorrow and they are going to handle the finer details. I’ve two more bedsteads being delivered so that Riza, Gracia and the Rockbells can stay at the house. They’ll all help. You used to get this frantic on missions,” the General chuckled, “and you always pulled through.”

Edward was good for working himself into a froth and it often bothered the General, but now the froth was over good things. Edward’s life was now good things and a little frothing wouldn’t hurt him; it was kind of cute.

“All five bedrooms are going to be furnished now?” Edward seemed to let himself be distracted. “I never thought I’d see the day we didn’t have empty rooms in the house.”

“We’ve yet to break them in properly however,” the General wiggled his eyebrow.

Edward looked askance at that.

“I could never do that in a bed Gracia has slept in,” he said, scandalized.

The General laughed and shook his head.

“This is like R.D. watching, isn’t it?” he teased.

Edward hunched down and pushed his shoulders up.

“Shuddup,” he offered in his usual elegant way.

***

Falman stopped him on the way out the door.

“Lieutenant Colonel,” he said and Havoc looked at him, “I am under the impression that you and Miss Sarah will be attending Alphonse’s birthday party this coming Saturday?”

“Yes, of course we are,” Havoc returned. “Are you and Abby going?”

“Yes, we were wondering if perhaps we might all share a vehicle,” Falman asked.

“Sure,” Havoc said. “I’ve been out to the General’s house before, I know the way, I can drive.”

Falman seemed to mull this over and finally nodded once.

“You’re going to pull my files and check my driving record, aren’t you?” Havoc said, hands on hips.

“Never hurts to be well informed,” Falman replied.

***

Alphonse shifted, smoothing his jacket tail over his legs and lacing his fingers in his lap, trying in vain to come up with a conversation topic that didn’t pertain to the office. This was his chance to establish a bond outside their professional relationship and he was wasting it!

 _Think, think, think! What does she like? Dogs… she likes dogs. Guns… she likes guns. Which do I know more about?_

“So Clayton is taking care of Hayate while we’re away?” Al asked, even though he knew the answer.

She glanced over at him from where she’d been watching the scenery pass by the train window.

“Yes,” she said. “You were in the office when the arrangement was made.”

“Oh, right,” Al said and offered a weak smile, then sighed inwardly.

“I hear your party is going to be quite large, there is even the inclusion of an ambassador?” She smiled at him, offering conversation in his desert of small talk.

“Yes,” he latched onto the oasis, “Brother met him through the General. It seems they are friends, or at least as much of friends as Brother allows people to be. Brother says he invited himself, but that hardly matters. I can’t wait to tell Clayton.”

“Anyone else of note going to be attending?” she asked.

“Well, of note to me at least,” Al said and shrugged, smiling. “Granny and Winry, Gracia and Elysia.”

 _You._

“It will be good to see Gracia, I haven’t seen her in a while,” Hawkeye crossed her legs and leaned back on the seat. “It’s hard to believe that Elysia is twelve already, how times fly.”

Al nodded mute agreement.

“Colonel,” he said quietly. “With my memories back, it makes this my twenty-second birthday… not my eighteenth.” He played with the hem of his coat for a moment. “Everyone seems to have forgotten that.”

The Colonel herself widened her eyes just slightly, but then calmed the expression.

“You’re right Alphonse,” she said. “I must apologize as well. For those of us who watched you grow up for the second time, it’s a bit hard to think that way. You’ll forgive me, won’t you?”

“Of course!” Al said hastily. “I didn’t mean it like that. I completely understand why everyone thinks that way. Not everyone gets a second time around; I don’t mean to make it sound like a compliant.”

“It must be hard, I can’t even begin to imagine,” the Colonel said quietly. “All those lifetimes… but you handle it with remarkable strength. You’re truly an example, Alphonse, of what is best in humanity.”

Al felt his cheeks heat to the point of frying eggs and he ducked his head to hide it.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” the Colonel said to the top of a bowed, dark blonde head, feeling her smile get away from her a bit.

“It’s okay,” Al said, studying the floor. “Better a compliment than a criticism, wouldn’t you think?”

“Better all around,” the Colonel agreed.

***

Ed was tired. The boys took deadly advantage of the fact that their Professor had been up half the night transmuting a deck and grill in his backyard in preparation for his brother’s birthday. Short of snarling at them _(or turning them all into fish)_ , he decided the best way to tame them was with a pop quiz. It had terrified them into angels by the end of the period and he was glad to see them go, _(but felt guilty about that afterwards)_.

Two more meetings and he could go nap on Roy’s couch until five, when the General could leave and they could go home, but something else was nagging at him that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He chewed the end of his pen while Dr. Thaxton went on and on about the band’s itinerary for the exhibition and their plan to sell lemonade and cookies. Ed made tired notes in his notebook and nodded at the appropriate times. He didn’t notice the door of his classroom open, but Dr. Thaxton did and gave Ed a prompt.

“You have a visitor, Professor Elric,” he said.

Ed looked over, _(PLEASE, not the Prince)_ , then blinked in surprise to see Roy standing there in his long coat.

“I’m terribly sorry to interrupt, might I borrow Professor Elric for a moment?” he asked with a smile.

Ed stood and nodded to Thaxton, then crossed to Roy and let the General usher him into the hall.

“Is something wrong?” Ed asked anxiously. Since he’d been teaching, Roy had never ventured into the Academy or his classroom.

“No, I’m coming to see that you have sufficient pocket money for a cab home,” the General smiled. “I wasn’t sure you had your wallet with you this morning.”

“I’ve been leaving it at home so I can’t take Ling to lunch,” Ed said and stretched. “But why do I need a cab?” he asked.

“I’m going to meet Gracia and Elysia’s train,” Roy said. “I’m driving them home after, can you leave now?”

“No,” Ed whimpered and reached out to grip Roy’s sleeves. He would have walked into his chest had he not suddenly remembered where they were. “I have another meeting after this one.”

The General didn’t seem concerned of their location, because Ed was suddenly pulled against his chest briefly and his head was stroked once before the General stepped back.

“Finish it quickly and then come straight home,” Roy said. “You look exhausted.” He reached into his inner jacket pocket, produced his own wallet and shoved money into Ed’s hand. He then looked up and down the hall once and gave Ed a quick and light kiss on the cheek.

“Gracia and Elyisa will be excited to see you. Then you can have dinner and go to bed,” the General promised.

Ed almost wanted to whine and tell the General not to leave him, but instead he pocketed the money and gave a brave smile, nodding.

“See you at home,” Ed said.

The General smiled, turned and as he walked away, he gave his usual wave over his shoulder.

Ed shook his head, turned to go back into the classroom and ran into a chest.

“I see you have money now,” the Prince said. “I forgive you for not taking me to lunch, we can have dinner instead.”

Ed’s jaw dropped.

***

She was running down the platform, arms outstretched and quite literally fell into the waiting arms, fingers digging into the sleeves of a great coat, going up on tiptoes.

He smelled like sandalwood, his laugh was deep and nice and he hugged her once she’d found her way into his arms, kissing the top of her head.

“Uncle Roy,” she said, burrowing into his chest. “Will you still marry me?” she teased.

“Yes,” he answered with a laugh. “We said we’d marry when pigs could fly!”

“I’m working on that!” Elysia Hughes said, grinning up at him with her father’s grin. The General hugged her again against his chest and was glad he at least had this to remember him by.

***

Gracia tucked her arm into his when he offered and they trailed Elysia down the platform to the baggage car.

“Was the trip alright?” he asked her.

“It was lovely,” Gracia said. “Elysia was so excited to come and see everyone. I was too, it’s been a while.”

Gracia had naturally wished to relocated closer to family after Hughes’ death, she and Elysia now lived in Abington, it was only a few hours by train.

Elysia had stopped to wait on them and ducked under Roy’s other arm when they came close.

“Everyone is going to be jealous of my beautiful escorts,” the General said, smiling down at her.

Elysia wrinkled her nose and grinned.

“Where’s Ed?” she demanded. “Didn’t he come too?”

“Ed is still at work,” the General said. “He wanted to come, but he couldn’t. You’ll see him at the house tonight,” he promised.

“That’s funny that Ed has a job,” Elysia laughed. “What does he do?”

“He’s a teacher,” Roy said and squeezed her shoulder.

“Oh,” Elysia said and wrinkled her nose again.

Gracia laughed and gave Roy’s arm a little squeeze.

“How is that going for him,” she asked. “Alphonse is much more informative, we’re lucky to get a half page letter from Edward.”

“He sucks at letters, Al is much better,” Elysia agreed.

“It’s going very well,” Roy told Gracia. “He’s in the middle of planning a school exhibition. That and the party and his impromptu cultural liaison duties keep him quite busy.”

Gracia lifted her eyebrows in question and Elysia voiced it.

“What’s a cultural liaison?” the little girl asked.

“Well there is a Prince from Xing staying in Amestris and Ed helps show him around, introducing him to our culture,” the General explained. “You’ll get to meet him; he’ll be at the party. His name is Prince Ling.”

“Really?” Elysia said excitedly. “A real Prince?” her eyes lit up.

“A real Prince,” the General assured her.

“Very fancy guest list,” Gracia said with a small smile.

“Don’t be too impressed,” the General said with a twinkle in his eye. “It seems the Prince’s true objective is to sample every restaurant in Central, at least that is how Ed will tell it.”

Gracia laughed.

“I might also mention Ed has inadvertently invited his entire class?” he furthered.

“I’m going to have a talk with him,” Gracia said.

***

“I’m not taking you to dinner,” Ed whispered heatedly. “Now beat it, I’m busy! I need that money for a cab home tonight.”

“You live with the General,” the Prince stated.

Ed drew himself up. He was not ashamed and was ready to defend his lover.

“I do,” he said and looked Ling in the eye as if daring him to make a disparaging comment about it.

“You’ve done very well for yourself,” the Prince said and clasped his hands behind his back. “General Mustang is an important man.”

Ed blinked, then nodded and smiled a little.

“Thank you and I know he is,” he told the Prince. “I really can’t take you to dinner tonight; we have out of town guests arriving for the party. Does Ran Fan know you’re here?”

Ling just smiled and tilted his head.

“I guess that’s a dumb question,” Ed said. “Okay, I have to go now. You go back to your… wherever it is you go when you’re not here pestering me. I’m _working_ ,” Ed emphasized.

Ed put his hand on the doorknob.

“I think he’s a bit old for you,” the Prince said behind him.

When Ed turned to retaliate, the Prince was gone.

***

That evening they disembarked and checked into the small hotel near the depot. Al nervously suggested they eat dinner together and floated to his room to freshen up after she agreed.

It’s not fancy, simple hotel fair, but he’s sitting across the table from her and she’s telling him about a theatre production that she might like to see when they return to East City.

 _Ask her out! Ask her to go with you!_

“Colonel,” he managed to get out before having to take a drink of water because his mouth had become suddenly dry. She waited patiently for him to continue after he put a firm clamp on his blush and sat up a bit straighter.

 _I’m twenty-two, I’m not eighteen. I shouldn’t blush every time I speak to her!_

“I would like to see that play too. Perhaps… we could go together?” he says, trying not to sound eager and trying not to lean forward onto the table. He held his breath and waited expectantly; there was something unreadable in her expression for a few moments, but then she smiled again.

“I was thinking of taking everyone in the office, as a thank you for all of their hard work,” she said smoothly.

Al is not sure if this is true or not, she is so damn hard to read. He is glad he has never faced her in a poker game, but she wouldn’t lie to him. He is always the giver of the benefit of the doubt, because Ed never was.

“You are, of course, more than welcome to come with us,” she continued. “You are still very much a part of us even though you will be ‘unleashed’, as Clayton puts it.”

They both had a moment to smile over First Lieutenant Pharr’s wit, and then they went back to their meals. He was at a loss for a topic as his gut churned like it shouldn’t, and when the meal was over, they said goodnight and he returned to his room, sitting on the side of his bed.

Inspiration strikes out of nowhere as it usually does, and Al blinked at the obvious fount of advice that’d been under his nose all along.

The Pirate even dated her years ago. Resignation be damned, he knew what he _truly_ wanted for his birthday: the Pirate’s advice on how to maraud and pillage and conquer.

In the ways of women, the General was a legend. It must be that way with men too, because Al had never once considered his brother… gay.

***

Ed was mugged on his way in the door.

A terrier bounced excitedly at his feet, and he would think it over stimulated, but it was always like that. A girl child wrapped her arms around his waist and became boneless as he dragged her down the hall.

“Ed, guess what?!” Elysia yelled. “I brought all my pictures to show you and Uncle Roy stopped on the way to the house and got me film for my brownie camera! He says you’re going to transmute a fence around the backyard tomorrow night and I want to chronicle it!”

Chronicle was her new word.

“That’s what journalists do,” she continued as Ed, grunting, dragged her into the den to deposit his briefcase, “They make chronicles!”

Elysia already had her future career mapped out.

“That’s great,” Ed said and gave her head a fond rub while R.D. literally did cartwheels around the den in happiness. Elysia noticed this and released Ed, _(to his secret relief)_ , and made a grab for the terrier, but he darted out of reach and she ran into the hall, chasing him. Ed followed behind slowly.

The house smelled _divine_ and he let his nose lead him toward the kitchen, where he got another greeting when he entered. The hug wasn’t as enthusiastic, but it was warm and welcome.

“Edward,” Gracia said as she released him. “It’s so good to see you.”

Roy was seated at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and a smile of his own.

Elysia reappeared and grabbed Ed around the waist from behind and R.D. darted under the kitchen table and panted. It seemed like she might be a little too much even for him.

“You know what else?!” she cried. “We are going to stay all weekend and until Tuesday! When is Al going to get here?! Is Riza coming?! Uncle Roy says you know a Prince!”

“Elysia, let Edward sit down,” her mother laughed. “She’s into interrogation, as you can guess,” Gracia returned to the stove where she had dinner cooking.

Elysia obediently released Ed’s waist and waited for him to sit down, climbing into the chair beside him and looking at him expectantly.

Roy gave him a sympathetic look, but he’d already endured the grilling and wasn’t about to get back into the line of fire.

“Okay,” Ed said. “First, I want to say I’m glad you’re here,” and he grinned at her and she grinned back. “To answer your questions: Al will be here tomorrow, Riza is coming with him and yes I do know a real Prince, so does your Uncle Roy.”

“Same Prince?” Elysia asked, looking over at Roy. Roy nodded and her attention turned back to Edward. “Uncle Roy says you know him better.”

“I know what he likes to eat,” Ed said drolly. Gracia laughed from across the kitchen and Roy winked at him.

“Huh,” Elysia said. “What does he look like?”

“A mooch in a fancy robe,” Ed supplied and Elysia looked puzzled when her mother and Uncle Roy both laughed.

***

The next day was a blur of motion. Gracia was at the house now to welcome the men bringing the furniture, tent and rented chairs. Somehow, they’d gotten their time tables turned around and weren’t sure which train Al and Riza were arriving on, but that wasn’t a major concern as they would be able to get to the house on their own. Ed’s entire class told him happily that they would be attending, then Ling showed up promptly at noon and hovered over his shoulder as he tried to get some grading done as not to fall behind, because his weekend was going to be hectic. He turned and looked at the Xingian and then pointed toward the classroom.

“Pull up a desk Your Highness, time for you to earn your keep,” he said with a wicked grin.

The Prince grinned back, pulled one of the students’ desks up to Ed’s and sat down in it. Ed divided up his stack of papers, fished in his desk for another red pen, hastily scribbled down the correct answers on a sheet from his notebook, tore it out and then handed the stack to the startled Prince.

Ed demonstrated how to grade then.

“If the answer is different than the one I wrote down for you, then just make an ‘X’ through it,” he said.

The Prince looked bemused, but when Ed began to ignore him for his chore, he followed suit.

“This is most…” the Prince started.

“No talking while grading,” Ed interrupted.

“Not even a little?” the Prince asked.

“Not a word,” Ed replied.

“But we’ve already said several words,” Ling offered.

“You need to be quiet now and work,” Ed informed him.

“I’m working,” Ling said after a few moments.

“It’s probably good for your pampered ass,” Ed told him.

“So this is what teaching is about?” Ling asked.

Ed looked up at him and snorted, then tapped his pen against the paper he was grading.

“No, this is just something that comes along with it. The more you talk, the longer this will take,” Ed said.

“Why do you teach?” the Prince asked, only glancing up from the paper he was on.

Ed opened his mouth for a smarmy retort about paying bills, only he didn’t pay the bills, Roy did. Well, Ed did pay the bills as well, he always handed over his paycheck and Roy always gave him pocket money. He was fine with the arrangement, but as far as sitting down at the desk and figuring out the house budget and who they owed what to, Roy took care of all that.

He really shouldn’t belittle his chosen career at the cost of a good barb at the Prince, either. The mooch was actually _helping_ grade papers and it was the most Ed had seen him do other than shovel food into this mouth.

“I like to share what I know with people,” Ed said and shrugged. “They can learn from my experiences, _(and mistakes)_ , and go out and apply them to their own benefit.”

“A very noble profession,” the Prince said and flipped to the next paper. “Seems befitting of such a famous alchemist.”

“Well… thanks,” Ed mumbled. He was never quite sure what to do with Ling when the asshole was being _nice_.

They both worked in silence for a bit longer, Ed coming to the end of his stack before Ling.

“You can give some of them back to me,” Ed said. “I’m done with the ones I have.”

“No,” the Prince said. “It is my honor to be at your assistance for once.”

Ed fidgeted in his chair, not sure what to do with that.

“What’s for lunch?” the Prince asked.

He could almost kiss the jerk for that.

****

Al and Riza were already at the house by the time they got home. The General stood back smiling next to the Colonel as the two brothers hugged each other, and then squished Elysia between them. Ed, Al and Elysia were all trying to talk at the same time and they ended up in the living room on the sofa with Elysia sitting in Al’s lap and R.D. trying to get into Edward’s. The Colonel helped the General off with his coat and they repaired to the kitchen where, once again, Gracia was holding court. The three of them sat to have coffee at the table.

“I hope Elysia isn’t a bother,” Gracia said. “She’s just so happy to see them both.”

“They love it,” Roy assured her. “Ed is used to kids now.” He smiled and sipped his coffee.

“What can I help you with tomorrow?” Riza asked. “The last day before the party, I expect the other house guests will be arriving?”

The General nodded and confirmed that the Rockbells would be on the morning train and would be taking a cab to the house. He also confirmed they were willing to help in any way possible.

“I have to come up with a lot of extra party favors,” Gracia said. “We could go into town tomorrow if you don’t mind.”

“I’d love to,” the Colonel said. “I haven’t had a chance to shop since the holidays.”

The trio then burst into the kitchen, Ed having finally shed his coat. Elysia had Ed by his automail hand and her other hand tangled in Al’s. They lifted and swung her in the kitchen door before setting her on her feet; she was laughing and flushed and R.D. danced frantic circles around her ankles.

“Dinner?” Ed said breathlessly, grinning.

“It smells wonderful in here!” Al added.

“Chicken!” Elysia said and then went and got in the chair next to Roy, grabbing his arm and leaning her head on it.

 _Look at this,_ the General thought. _The boys have their family and when the Rockbells arrive tomorrow, it will be complete._

He watched Ed and Al trail Gracia to the stove where the three of them peered in at the roasting chicken. The boys moaned with pleasure.

He kissed the top of Elysia’s head.

***

Elysia held R.D.’s leash and watched Ed and Al lay out wooden planks all along where the perimeter of the fence to be. She fiddled with her brownie camera and rechecked her settings, _(even though the camera only had one real setting)_ , and tried to get R.D. to be still. She finally foisted the dogs leash off onto Roy who was standing next to her and ran into the yard, taking a picture of Ed and Al as they got the last plank into position. Al grinned and waved for the camera, and Ed put his hands on his hips, snorting. Then Ed strode to the middle of the yard and called out to her.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

Elysia nodded and poised with her camera.

Edward clapped his hands together.

 _Snap._

Edward knelt and slapped his hands on the ground.

 _Snap._

Blinding light radiated from the circle and Elysia snapped the camera as hard and as fast as she could, trying to follow the circle around the back yard as the planks suddenly stood up on their own, slammed into the ground and melded together. R.D. took it upon himself to yap himself shrill and run back and forth over Roy’s feet.

Ed stood up and dusted off his hands as Al nodded approval. Roy leaned down and released R.D. from his leash, and the small dog immediately took off, lapping the enclosure once before stopping and tilting his head back and forth. Al and Ed walked over to Elysia and together they all started for the deck where Roy still stood.

R.D. darted over to the fence and squeezed through the solitary hole there left by one lone rock that wedged between the wood planks while they were being transmuted. Ed and Al and Elysia all squawked and took off after him.

“Where’s the gate?!” Elysia cried.

Ed stopped in his tracks and then slowly put his hand over his face.

Al bit his lip and looked at Ed sidelong for a moment. His elder brother cursed rather loudly, _(and Al slapped his hands over Elysia’s ears)_ , before slapping his hands together and forming a gate into the fence.

“So escape proof meant the exclusion of a gate?” Al said with an overly bright smile.

“Shuddup you,” his brother growled.

“It needs to lead out the back,” Roy called helpfully. “Not into the neighbor’s yard.”

“Tell that to your damn dog,” Ed shouted back before swinging the gate open and running through with Al and Elysia following.

***

The next day brought the Rockbells when Ed and Roy arrived home from work. It was Friday, the last day before the party. They were assaulted by laughter and music and the smells permeating the house from the kitchen. Winry and Pinako and Elysia greeted them in the hallway, _(along with R.D.)_ , where Ed endured bone crushing hugs from his almost-sister, a pat from his ‘granny’, Elysia hanging off his waist and R.D. dancing at his feet.

Roy was almost blinded by the grin on his lover’s face.

Al called down the hall to them from the kitchen, promising warm cider _(cider!)_ before dinner. More hugs followed in the kitchen and Roy threw his arm over Al’s shoulder as they stood looking at the large tent that had been erected in the back yard that afternoon. Neat rows of chairs sat within its canvas walls and a series of tables were next to the brick grill.

Roy gave Al a little shake and the boy grinned at him.

“This is great,” Al said to his Pirate. “Everyone is here; it’s everything I could have wanted for my birthday.”

Roy pulled the boy over for a brief squeeze.

“Everything you deserve Al,” he said.

For a long moment Al just leaned into him, his fingers dug into the back of Roy’s shirt.

“There are so many things that are left unsaid,” Al spoke softly. “We just assume people know what we mean and that we don’t have to voice them, and maybe that’s true. I have my memories back now and I remember him… my father. He was not as bad as brother wanted him to be, I think. It’s best to let Ed have that though, because he needs it, I know why he needs it. But because I had more than one lifetime, I can have more than one father, can’t I?”

Roy buried his nose in the boy’s hair for a long moment.

“Yeah,” Al said, not moving away. “That’s what I thought, too.”

***

At dinner, Winry noticed the scratches on Ed’s automail hand, but he snatched it back and put it in his lap before she could grab it. She didn’t want to start a scene at the table, but her eyes told the horrific tale of what was waiting for him when she could get him _alone_.

This being the case, Ed stuck as close to Al as he could manage after dinner, to the point where Elysia was giving him funny looks. He made faces at her and Al gave his long suffering sigh before Winry finally just threw propriety out the window, grabbed Ed by an ear and marched him away.

“Al,” Ed cried as he was hauled to his doom by his earlobe, “you get all my stuff!”

Al looked pointedly up at Roy who seemed unconcerned that Winry had made off with his… _(his what? Were they husbands now? They’d been together forever; it seemed rude to think of them as mere ‘boyfriends’. That didn’t infer anything lasting in Al’s mind…)_ as he tried to stumble on the right phrase, he remembered his brother’s kind offer.

“No thanks!” Al yelled down the hall.

***

She sat seething silently, an automail hand clutched in her own and its owner trying to lean as far away from her as possible.

“How did it happen, Ed,” she rasped out.

“Exploding eraser,” Ed whimpered, “wasn’t my fault.”

“I can’t believe you, why would you be making erasers explode?” She released his hand with one of her own and fished a slim tool wallet out of her back pocket. Ed wasn’t surprised, he was just glad the large wrench was too obvious and clashed with her ensemble.

“Wasn’t my…” Ed started but she cut him off with a look and he sucked in his bottom lip.

“You got something jammed in it,” she growled. “You been having trouble bending its entire rotation?”

“A little,” he admitted and braced himself.

She laid his hand on her knee, pulled a pick out of the tool wallet and set it aside, then she picked the hand back up and probed gingerly between the joints of his wrist. She was bent over his hand, intent on her work and Ed just watched her. Despite her irritation, she was gentle, as if it were flesh instead of unfeeling steel. But she knew all too well that it wasn’t totally unfeeling, not with all the nerve endings packed into it, supplying the electricity from Ed’s own body needed to give it motion.

“How are things in Risembool,” he asked. “Are you still planning on going back to Rush Valley?”

“Things are fine, Granny still has some regular customers and I’m doing more mail order now,” she said. “You remember Nancy and Zach? They got married.”

“Yeah?” Ed said and ‘hmphed’. “They were always together when we were kids.”

Winry nodded.

“They were, a lot like me and you and Al,” she said, laying his hand on her knee again and going for the hook tool.

“Did you go to the wedding?” Ed asked.

“Of course, Risembool is so small, _everyone_ was there. I got asked about you and Al a lot,” Winry brushed the filings away and sighed at the ruined finish. “I need my big buffer; you’ve really scratched this up.”

“I wear gloves all the time, no one sees it,” Ed complained. “The Rockbell name is safe,” he assured her.

Winry rubbed her thumb over the back of one of the automail fingers and clasped the others loosely, laying the hook down beside her.

“I know when we were kids there was this big thing that I would marry Al, because he won the fight,” she said.

“I remember that,” Ed said, watching her hold his hand and not moving to pull it from her grasp.

“It wasn’t Al I thought I’d marry,” she said softly.

Ed shifted then, careful not to tug his hand away, but obviously uncomfortable.

“I never thought that when you left you’d never come back, that I’d never have a chance,” she continued, not looking up at him. “I guess when you’re young you don’t think about things like that. You always think people are invincible and you’ll see them again someday. Death doesn’t really matter to you, but it wasn’t death that took you away. For a while it seemed like it was, and then you came back… but you still didn’t come back.”

“Winry,” Ed said thickly, “I’m…”

“No, it’s okay,” she interrupted him. “I got used to the idea; I didn’t say this to make you sorry or uncomfortable. I just wanted some… closure. You’re happy, and I’m happy that you are, even if the circumstances aren’t what I’d imagined.”

“I don’t think anyone would have imagined them,” Ed said quietly.

She clasped two of his automail fingers, one in each hand and wiggled them up and down, smiling a little as she did.

“Besides, we both know this is my _true_ love, and maybe in the end, it might have been my only love. I don’t know,” She reached up and tucked some hair behind her ear, releasing one of his fingers.

The automail finger curled around hers, gently. Precision control from him, she would expect no less.

“I would have driven you insane and you’d be in jail for death by wrench,” he said with a soft laugh. “We both know it.”

Winry released his hand and put her tools away, reaching behind her to tuck them in her back pocket.

“You’re right,” she said. “You do drive me insane and only being far away from me has saved us both, I think.” She smiled. “I just never thought of you as gay,” she said dropping her voice.

Ed reeled his jaw back in.

“I’m not gay,” he hissed.

She arched an eyebrow.

***

Winry returned to the living room and met the looks of the assembled audience.

“He’s as fixed as he’s going to get,” she said. “He lives to tell the tale.”

“Only just barely,” Ed snorted and pushed by her, forcing his way onto the couch between Al and the armrest. R.D. decided he was a good place to sit and he grumbled but allowed the little dog to get comfortable on his lap.

Roy occupied one armchair and Pinako the other. Gracia and Riza were sitting on chairs appropriated from the den and Elysia was on the other side of Al on the couch.

“I think everyone might think of turning in early,” the General said. “Tomorrow is going to be a big day.”

There was general agreement from around the room. As if on cue, Elysia yawned, so everyone got up and said their goodnights. Ed watched Al linger over his goodnight to Riza and chewed the inside of his cheek, trying to think of what it was he _could_ actually do, coming to the realization it wouldn’t be much.

***

R.D. had a spasm in the hallway as everyone went to their rooms. He darted between Elysia and Al frantically, and looked to be loosing what sanity he actually possessed, _(Ed exclaimed surprise that any of them actually thought he had sanity)_. He hovered by Roy’s feet in distress for a few moments.

However, when Roy reached down to offer a comforting pat, he zoomed away and whisked between Al’s feet, into his bedroom and on top of his bed. He bounced there frantically and Al laughed before going in pulling the door shut behind him.

Ed got undressed distractedly, into his pajamas distractedly and into bed distractedly. After waiting several minutes for Ed to actually lay down, Roy chuckled and ran his hand up under Ed’s pajama top, stroking his back.

“Trust me, it’s going to be fine,” he soothed. “Lay down already so I can turn off the light.”

Ed looked over his shoulder at him and sighed, waiting for Roy to extract his hand before doing a fine imitation of R.D. getting comfortable for the night, with a lot of shuffling and rearranging of his pillows.

“I just want it to be perfect, it’s important for Al,” Ed sighed as Roy turned off the light.

“I think it’s more important that you have a good time,” Roy said. “It won’t be much fun for Al if his big brother is a stress-beast the entire time.” There was amusement in his voice.

“Bastard,” Ed said softly, tilting his neck in Roy’s direction when Roy draped an arm across him and moved closer. Roy’s lips found the target easily enough and Ed closed his eyes. For a while, there was nothing but the sound of breathing and an occasional shift in the sheets before Roy’s hand wandered innocently down Ed’s chest, over his stomach and beneath the waistband of his pajama bottoms. Ed caught his hand for a moment, took a deep breath and released it. It always tickled Roy’s fancy that Ed was such an almost _prude_. He knew what the whole hand holding episode was about: the other people in the house. Actually, Ed was such a prude, he couldn’t even let a dog watch. Roy stifled a snicker on Ed’s shoulder and wrapped fingers around his erection.

“What’s so funny?” Ed whispered breathlessly.

Instead of answering, Roy curled his fingers and Ed’s cock, thus tunneled, got a stroke and a tug. After that, Ed didn’t care what was funny, he just arched his hips. Roy swallowed all of Ed’s delicious sounds by covering Ed’s mouth with his own; especially the half shout that accompanied Ed’s jerk and climax into his hand.

He watched Ed’s eyes drift slowly closed and then went to wash his hand. He went back and slipped into bed again, pulling up the covers. Sex was always a surefire method of getting Edward to sleep.

Now he could sit up and worry without looking like a hypocrite.


	11. Chapter 11

It was high noon and the party was less than three hours away. In the kitchen, the women consulted with the head caterer while outside, the General lined his men up for inspection. He had on his uniform with his great coat draped dramatically over his shoulder and at his heel, trotted a smart little terrier as he marched slowly up and down the row of black and white-clad recruits. They mimicked attention in a way that seemed not quite right, _(at least on a few of them)_ , and the General even received a wink or two that he dismissed offhandedly.

Civilians, the lot of them, but he would have to make do with what he had. His two subordinates, _(one ex-military, one about to be ex-military)_ , stood back with their hands clasped behind their backs, the blonder of the two turned to his younger brother.

“It’s all gone to his head,” Ed said. “There will be no living with him now. I thought it was a mistake to let him wear the uniform to the party, but oh no, you said all the other Generals would be doing it, so I had to let him do it too.”

“What are you blaming me for?” Al snorted. “You can take the man away from the job, but you obviously can’t take the job away from the man. He’s enjoying himself, what’s the harm?”

Ed gave his little brother a droll look and one of his eyebrows inched up to a disdaining angle.

“You have no idea,” Al’s elder brother said. “This is a monster you’ve unleashed. You haven’t had to attend state dinners with him.”

“Yes I have,” Al countered. “He’s perfectly amicable.”

“Ha, ha, ha,” Ed said. “He’s never been in the position to show you off before. It wasn’t you he was promoting at those functions.”

”Promoting?” Al said, looking confused. “What do you mean?”

“I have learned,” Ed said, bouncing once on the balls of his feet, “that if the General has the need to swagger like a peacock, he will. I go to state functions on his arm now, well figuratively, not as his subordinate. I’m at his mercy… all… evening… long. It’s exhilarating at first, being whisked from clique to clique, but after a while you just want to get away.” Ed leaned in close, pinning his younger brother eye to eye. “But you’re doomed to a never ending cycle of hand shakes and small talk enough to make your ear drums bleed for mercy. Not once can you get anywhere near the buffet, at least until all the good things are picked over. You carry the same drink around for hours, because every time you go to take a sip to relieve your dry, aching, parched throat, you’re forced right into another introduction. So you go without, languishing there on expensive tiles of a banquet room of infamy.”

Al backed away a little, swallowed and glanced toward the house.

“That won’t save you,” Ed laughed. “You can run, but you cannot hide.”

“Alphonse,” the General called right on cue. “Come over here would you please, I’d like to introduce you to the waiters.”

Al’s fingers twitched and he gave Ed one forlorn, sidelong glance as he forced himself to place foot before foot on his way to hospitality enslavement.

“Doomed,” Ed whispered behind his back, “doomed.”

The General grinned and waved Al to come along faster.

Ed laughed before turning and going back into the house where the women promptly gave him coffee and had him sit at the table with Elysia to finish off the muffins left over from breakfast.

***

At one, the doorbell rang and a young girl and young terrier raced frantically through the house to answer it, because as far as they were concerned, the tension was already mounting. Elysia had the presence of mind to dart quickly into the den and R.D. followed her, but she doubled back and shut the door, trapping him inside. She now noticed that her mother had made the trek behind her at a slower pace and was going for the doorknob. Elysia wailed in denial and her mother looked back at her in surprise, but then stood back to let her panting daughter hang off the doorknob for a moment.

The bell rang again and Elysia popped upright, turning the knob.

“Elysia! Gracia!” The voice vibrated over their very bones and Elysia’s feet left the floor. She almost clocked her head on the ceiling as Alex Armstrong hefted her onto his shoulder, but as he’d done the same thing last time, she was prepared and ducked.

“Alex,” Gracia said warmly and stepped into his one armed embrace, safe from the usual savaging he gave his former colleagues.

“I have brought with me the gentlemen who will be setting up the sound stage and equipment for the band,” Alex informed her. “Shall I direct them through the side gate?”

“Yes,” Gracia smiled. “Roy and Al are in the back as well, they can show them where they’d like the stage set up.”

“Very good, very good,” Alex nodded and then gently set Elysia on her feet. “When the band members begin to arrive, would you be so kind as to direct them through the side gate? They’ve no need to be carrying instrument cases through the General’s house. There will also be a young lady, a singer I have engaged to accompany tonight’s performance.”

“We’d be delighted,” Gracia informed him.

“I’ll show them the gate,” Elysia grinned up at him. His hand dropped fondly on the top of her head, palming the circumference easily.

“Such a fine young lady,” he rumbled, then took himself out the door and Gracia shut it.

“Okay young lady, you man the front window. Whenever you see anyone carrying an instrument case coming up the walk, you run out and direct them around.”

Elysia saluted her mother.

***

“General Mustang! Alphonse!” The gravel on the ground at their feet jumped, as did they when they saw the man-mountain come toward them.

“Alex,” Roy called cheerfully, then saw the set up crew carrying poles and boxes in through the side gate. “Is that the band?” Roy’s nostrils flared and Al groaned inwardly.

“This is their stage crew, they are going to set up a platform,” Alex got within range and Al winced at the hard clap on his shoulder. “A man already, Alphonse, so hard to believe. I can still remember those earnest young eyes, the way you searched for your missing brother,” Alex patted around his upper jacket pocket and pulled out a large, red, silk handkerchief. “Please forgive my seeming melancholic reaction, but such nobility both this lad and his brother possess quite moves me to tears.”

Al patted the large man’s arm and then got crushed in his embrace. The General stood by unaffected as he usually did while Al’s vision swam before his eyes and Alex expounded on his undying Elric admiration. Al’s survival came in the form of a small, black and white terrier who noticed that possibly his favorite person in the world next to his other favorite person in the world _(these rankings changed at any given moment because R.D. found he was rather fickle and if they didn’t offer him food, they could at least smell like food. That person wasn’t out here right now, so he’d settle for this one. He might not smell like food, but R.D. knew what he liked)_ was being menaced and he bounded with a yappy charge to the rescue.

The General pointed across the yard at the stage crew and huffed, looking over at Alex and Al.

“Do they truly know what they are doing?” he asked. “It’s best I go and supervise.”

“I’ll help,” Al yelped and gave Alex an apologetic smile, trotting after the General, _(in much the same way R.D. was doing, now having fended off the bad! mans!)_ but he slowed a moment and cast a rather mischievous looking smile over his shoulder in Alex’s direction.

“Ed’s in the kitchen,” Al called cheerfully and pointed toward the house. Alex seemed to brighten up considerably and strode toward his next victim.

“I’ll show you whose ass is doomed,” Al muttered as he hurried to catch up to the General.

***

At two-thirty, the terminally early began to show up. It was fortunate Ed had time to have a little lie down on the couch to recover from having the muffins he’d eaten earlier squeezed out of his nose in Alex’s enthusiasm. Elysia was the self appointed greeter and told people to ignore Ed as they passed the arch entrance of the living room on their way through the decorated main hall toward the kitchen back door. That was unless they wanted to dump their coats on him, which was perfectly all right.

After hanging a few coats in the coat closet and hollering down the hall for R.D., confined to the bedroom, to ‘put a sock in it’, _(because Elysia was there tripping up his tongue. He certainly didn’t want any sort of Hughesian hex to befall him for cursing in front of his daughter)_ , he decided to head back outside and have Roy run interference in case Alex felt need the need to have his sternum touch his spine again.

The first of his students arrived at two fifty-two, with parents and elder sibling in tow.

“Professor Elric,” Seth called the moment he cleared the back door. Ed smiled and waved at him as the boy turned to tug on the taller boy behind him and they both trotted over the lawn to his side.

“I’m glad you could make it, Seth,” the Professor said. “You’re the first one to arrive.”

“Oh, that’s just because Mom is anal,” Seth reassured him. “She’s early to everything. My Dad said she’ll be in her coffin tapping her heel before the pearly gates get open.”

Such interesting imagery. The other part of the imagery was Seth, out of uniform. He was still Seth, but his sweater, boy’s slacks and loafers softened him; his hair wasn’t slicked or oiled and it ruffled slightly in the mid-afternoon breeze. He looked so very young. Of course he looked young in his uniform, but there he blended in with his pack; here he was almost unguarded and the Professor shook himself, wondering why the hell his sentimentality was trying to send him into sugar shock.

“Hey, you remember all those articles I brought to the club meeting?” Seth asked and grabbed the older boy’s shirtsleeve. “They were my brother’s, this is Stephen,” Seth introduced. “He’s a big fan of yours. I told him it was okay to talk to you.”

Ed smiled at the older boy and extended his hand, watching Seth bounce excitedly in his peripheral vision.

“Edward Elric,” Ed said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Stephen.”

The boy took his offered hand and shook, but he didn’t let go. In fact, he held it much longer than propriety allows a normal handshake and looked down at its white, gloved outline, palm to palm with his own hand.

“Is this,” Stephen said worshipfully, “your automail hand?” He seemed to tremble all over and Seth snorted.

“It is,” Ed said, wondering where this was leading. “I’m not holding on too tight, am I?” he joked a little and tried to extract his hand.

“Stephen, quite being a spaz and let him go!” Seth reached up to separate them, grabbing a flesh and steel wrist in each of his hands. “Sheesh, it’s only automail,” Seth said.

Ed felt the corner of his mouth quirk up.

“I feel like I should have my hand enshrined,” Stephen whispered reverently.

“It’s okay Professor, I won’t let him tackle you or anything freaky like that,” Seth assured him. “He’ll get over his weirdness, I’ll just take him over to the punch bowl; can we have some?”

Seth out of uniform was a new discovery indeed. It was if he somehow managed to cage all his exuberance behind gray cloth and only let it out when he could breathe properly under the sun.

“You help yourselves,” Ed told him. “I’m really glad you came.”

Seth grinned and tugged on his brother who followed like a zombie, staring at the palm of his hand.

***  
“General Charles ‘MadCap’ Stanton,” the man with the heavy beard boomed as he offered his hand. “You must be this ‘Professor’ Danny goes on and on about.” Beside the uniformed man, Daniel squirmed like a worm on a hook. He was dressed in a suit with knee shorts and his hair was parted down the middle and slicked down at the sides; he barely met Ed’s eyes even once.

“Edward Elric,” Ed returned, trying not to look at Daniel much because it seemed to make the boy uncomfortable.

“Yes, he goes on and on about that alchemy class like it’s the only thing in the world,” General Stanton said, pumping his hand. “But he’s bound for service like his old man, I don’t see where it will serve him in the…” General Stanton trailed off, looking over Ed’s shoulder. He released his hand abruptly and moved around him.

“Roy!” the man boomed behind him, leaving Ed there with his hand in the air and his surly, silent son.

Ed looked at Daniel as the boy squared his jaw, reached up, ruffled his hair violently and jerked his necktie loose. He then took Ed’s hand and shook it.

“There,” Daniel said, “that finishes it off. You look dorky standing there with your hand out and nothing holding it.”

Edward raised his eyebrows, put his hands on his hips and wrinkled his nose.

“Is that so, short pants?” he asked and Daniel groaned.

“Take advantage of a guy’s weakness,” the boy complained.

Ed reached back and flipped his ponytail.

“Mock a man’s ponytail,” he retaliated.

“Okay fine,” Daniel said. “Truce.”

“Go get some punch,” the Professor told him. “You seem like a man in need of a drink.”

Daniel glanced toward his father once; the older man was now standing with other blue clad military sorts.

“You have no idea,” Daniel said and stalked off.

With a father like that, maybe Ed did.

***

“This is one fancy place,” Sarah said, looking around as she moved out into the backyard, holding Havoc’s arm.

“I guess the General does alright,” Havoc said, eyes already roving for spots he could slip away to and not get harangued about making someone’s dress smell like smoke.

“There’s Breda and Cain,” Sarah said, pointing across the yard. In the months she’d been dating Havoc, she’d managed to become one of the group. Breda and Cain often lamented after their lost earnings in poker, but Havoc had little sympathy and some steak dinners for their pain.

He looked back as Falman and Abby followed them out and caught Falman’s attention, nodding at the usual suspects.

“So who’s who here,” Sarah asked as Havoc led her across the lawn. Havoc nodded in the direction they were going; Alphonse had moved over to Cain and Breda. Breda slapped him on the back and Cain shook his hand.

“Right off the bat you’re going to meet the birthday boy,” Jean told her. “His name is Alphonse Elric, but we call him Al.”

“Is he ever cute,” Sarah said. Ed picked this time to also join the group and Sarah elbowed Jean and looked up at him.

“That’s Edward Elric. Do you remember the FullMetal Alchemist? He was big back in East City,” Havoc said.

“I think I heard a story or two, is that him?” she asked.

“In the flesh and steel,” Havoc replied.

***

“Oh ho, here comes trouble,” Breda chuckled and shook his head.

“Never play this woman at cards,” Cain warned Al as Sarah and Havoc reached them, with Falman and another girl on their heels. Havoc slung his arm over Al’s shoulder and grinned.

“A free man,” he said. “Takes bravery these days. Happy birthday, this is some shindig.”

Al grinned and Ed put his hands behind his back, appearing smug.

“Thanks Jean,” Al said and looked at the girl standing next to him, smiling.

“I’m Sarah Mahoney,” she said, extending her hand, “Happy birthday, sorry soldier boy here is skipping the introductions.”

Al took it, shaking it and continuing his grin while Havoc snorted.

“As if anyone needs to introduce the female tornado,” Havoc said. “I’m surprised she didn’t run over here and tackle you,” he told Al.

“I don’t tackle people the first time I meet them,” Sarah said, “that’s the second.”

“I’m glad you guys could make it,” Al beamed.

“Congratulations, Alphonse,” Falman said. “I’m sure you have a promising civilian career ahead of you. This is Abigail Crammer.”

“Hello,” the brunette hanging on Falman’s arm said, giving a little wave, “Happy birthday, and congratulations are in order I’m told.”

“Thanks Vato,” Al said. “Pleased to meet you Miss Crammer, and thank you,” he smiled.

Sarah had saved the tackle for Ed. He looked like he could take it.

“Hey, I hear you’re famous,” she said, moving right to his side. He turned his head and blinked at her as she grinned. “Show us what you’re famous for,” she said. Havoc shook his head, releasing Al’s shoulders.

“Depends on what you’ve heard I’m famous for,” Ed replied with a smirk of his own. “I was unaware my efforts to foist my world views on the next generation had reached the levels of infamy so quickly.”

“No, do the alchemy boy thing,” she said. “Jean says you were the man back in the day. I read an article about you once I think, and OH, I saw a newsreel in the theatre!”

“I bet it was the one about the dam,” Fuery said. “They showed that one a lot.”

“I think it was, it was great,” Sarah said. “Come on, show us what you got,” she clapped her hands a few times.

Ed blinked and waved his hand, shaking his head and scowling at them both.

“Clap my hands indeed. It’s not magic, you know. Besides, I’ve given that up, Jean knows that,” he shot a glance over her shoulder at the man in question, who shrugged and grinned, toothpick hanging out of his mouth.

The General chose this moment to intercede. He leaned into the circle between Ed and Al, smiling.

“I’m terribly sorry lovely young lady, but we’d rather not have any practical demonstrations, as Edward tends to get carried away,” he smiled at Sarah in the way he smiled at all beautiful women of his acquaintance and Ed turned to glower at him. Sarah smiled back slowly and Havoc suddenly grabbed her hand.

“I’m here to confiscate Alphonse,” the General continued. “His brother is a dreadful bore to hog him so, there are people to meet and mingle with and this party is in his honor. Alphonse?” The General looked at the young man who smile and nodded.

“All yours Pirate,” he said with a grin. Ed huffed as the General led his younger brother away and Al gave him an apologetic wave over his shoulder.

“Always running off to do what Roy wants him to do, I wasn’t hogging him,” Ed said. “But so what if I was, he’s _my_ little brother. You’d think if anyone had the right to hog him, it would be me.”

“Don’t worry,” Sarah said, watching them go before swinging her eyes back to Ed. “We won’t let you get lonely.” She gave Havoc’s hand a little squeeze.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Ed snorted.

***

“Winry Rockbell,” she said, offering her hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Sarah Mahoney,” she replied back, taking the offered hand and giving it a shake. “I saw you when we came in.”

“Who are you here with?” Winry asked, handing her a cup of punch and turning to get her own.

“Jean Havoc,” Sarah replied, “you?”

“Extended family,” Winry said. “I know Ed and Al.”

“You’re related to blondie?” Sarah asked, sipping her punch. “I bet that’s a fun pastime.”

“Accident of location,” Winry said. “We grew up together as kids.”

“The birthday boy seems nice, didn’t get a chance to talk to him before sex in the uniform made off with him,” Sarah said casually.

Winry’s eyebrows rose and she turned her head to and looked in the direction of the cluster of uniforms gathered around Alphonse.

“Al is a sweetheart, not like Ed at all.” She looked hard at the man standing beside Al. ”You think he’s sexy?” Winry asked. Of the many things she’d thought in her lifetime about Roy Mustang, _(most very uncomplimentary)_ , that was the one thing she’d never associated with him.

“Are you blind? That eye patch is twitch material,” Sarah laughed. “Blondie isn’t too bad either, but I think I’m hooked up with the good one of the bunch,” she was watching Havoc and Breda pound Fuery on the back and push him at the bar. “Poor Cain, I might have to go rescue him… again.”

Winry shook her head and shrugged.

“There are a lot of kids here,” Sarah observed. “They’re everywhere and all boys except for this one little girl and she’s like, trying to run rough shod over them.”

“Ed’s class, he invited them,” Winry said. “Elysia is the tyrant’s name, she is a budding photo-journalist.”

“Amazing, I never wanted to go near my teacher with a ten foot pole,” Sarah said and got more punch. “They all came because he invited them?”

“I think it’s amazing too as I never thought of Ed as the tolerant type,” Winry said. “But he seems to do well with them; I guess you never really know a person like you think you do. They really seem to like him, but he’s changed a lot too.”

They both watched Ed get mobbed by the kids they were just discussing. He was being maneuvered across the yard to a group of what could only be their parents and he stood and smiled and shook hands a lot as each kid pointed him out to their respective guardian. A blanket introduction would not do, Ed had to be introduced multiple times in multiples ways.

“I almost feel sorry for him,” Sarah said. “He’s got this cute little twitch going on with his left eye and his smile is looking kind of forced.”

“Don’t be,” Winry snorted. “He’s always been a first class attention whore. He’s eating it up under the pretence of annoyance, he’s such glass.”

“Pretty to look at though,” Sarah said.

“I’ll agree to that,” Winry said and freshened her punch.

***

“I heard a dog barking in the house when I went in to pee,” Duffy said.

“Why didn’t you just go pee behind those bushes?” Daniel asked. “That’s what I did.”

“I was gonna,” Duffy said. “But Ma caught me undoing my belt, she made me go in and use the bathroom. It’s a big house, all the doors in the hall were closed, but I could hear the dog.”

“The Professor has a dog?” Eric said, which caught the attention of the others.

Ed was besieged again and a ring of boys enclosed him before he could make a break for it.

“Professor, can we see your dog?” Gavin asked.

“It’s not my dog, it’s the General’s,” Ed informed them. “You’ll have to ask him.” That should take care of that.

He left the boys looking across the yard at where Roy stood with the other uniform-clad, intimidating adults.

“C’mon,” Daniel said. “My dad is over there too!” He mustered his troops and across the yard they went. Alphonse saw them coming.

“We have impending visitors,” he told the General who turned to look at the group of boys. They got within a few feet and the head of the pack, who could only be Charles Stanton’s son, _(they had the same look in their eye, the look that could spell disaster or overwhelming victory if pushed in the right direction)_ , stopped and put his hands on his hips.

“General Mustang, can we see your dog?” he asked and his classmates shuffled behind him, studying Roy’s boots.

“I suppose so,” the General drawled. “But you’ll have to put him back when dinner is served and you’re charged with making sure he doesn’t get anything off the snack table.”

“So you’re the Professor’s Dad?” Daniel pressed. “Did he get in a lot of trouble when he was a kid?”

“Why didn’t you make him go to school,” Gavin whined.

“What was his favorite kind of ice cream?” Richard contemplated.

The other boys looked at him and he shrugged.

“Sorry,” Richard said, “you guys took the good questions, I couldn’t think of anything else.”

“Amateurs,” Seth mumbled. “Has he been graded on the Alchemic scale? Does he have a worldwide ranking? What can you tell us about his career without revealing classified information?”

The General looked slowly at Al who was grinning and obviously enjoying himself; several of the other military personnel present were also sporting wide grins.

“Is his Professorship honorary?” Boyd asked. “Professor Taylor says honorary titles aren’t as good as the real ones.”

“His Professorship is honorary,” the General said with a snort, “but that doesn’t make it any less valid than anyone else’s. Edward Elric accomplished more things by the time he was fifteen than most people will accomplish in their lifetimes. Alphonse here has similar credentials and many universities would kiss his feet to get him on their teaching staff. Not as good as a real one, indeed. Honorary is higher in my opinion, because it is presented by your peers.”

The boys all stood with their eyebrows raised.

“I was his sponsor, I’m not his parent,” the General said loftily. “He was massive trouble as a boy, nothing but one blonde bundle of trouble. If not for Alphonse here to watch over, he might not even be alive. He didn’t go to school, but he received schooling on his job. I’m not quite sure about the ice cream; my hazard guess would be chocolate. He’s never taken the official Alchemic scale test so he has no worldwide ranking, but he loves to brag about his own exploits, so you should ask him personally to expound upon his many achievements. They are, after all, his own and he can give you first hand accountancies of the facts, where I would only be second hand and technically inclined at best.”

The boys all looked at each other, then clapped politely.

“Let’s go let the dog out!” Duffy said.

They ran off in a huddle and Elysia finally ran out of film and noticed them, so she ran after them.

The General looked at Al, and Al looked back, raising his eyebrow.

“Did you enjoy that?” the General asked drolly.

“I love seeing you pinned down and worming your way out,” Al grinned.

They were interrupted by R.D.’s release into the backyard, followed by a herd of boys and one girl who seemed to be yelling directions. R.D. made a mad dash for the nearest familiar object, which happened to be Ed. The boys noticed a bit too late and plowed into him as well. There was a lot of flailing on the ground and loud apologies as the young lady Havoc was dating helped Ed to his feet. She laughed as Ed stood and brushed himself off, snorting at the shuffling boys with hung heads. The young lady, _(Sarah. When Havoc had finally decreed it safe to introduce her to the General, he believed the name was Sarah.)_ , elbowed Ed in the ribs and gave him a look, to which he sighed and told the boys it was all right, that these things happen. Winry went over then and began fussing with Ed’s collar and Ed pushed away, retreating. He didn’t care to be treated in the manner of one of his students.

“Look, Al. We need to go talk with Pickering and his crew,” the General grabbed his elbow and pulled him away.

“I’m never going to get the chance to finish a drink because I’m never going to get one,” Al complained as his captor led him away.

***

Alphonse devised a clever escape plan. The first thing he would need would be a distraction, not much of one, but just enough for the General to look the other way, just for a moment. The second part of the plan involved running like hell, and that was the clever part. He fidgeted around, waiting for his opening. It almost seemed as if the Pirate was onto him, no matter how sweetly he smiled and nodded his head in their direction, _(he could almost swear the man COULD see through the eye patch)_.

Diversion came from unexpected visitors. He watched Roy glance up and away, then double take and break into a smile. The General left the group without so much as a goodbye or backward glance. Here Alphonse was trying to be clever and sneak away, and the Pirate just walked out and left the door right open. It hardly seemed fitting at that point, but freedom was his, _(he took it begrudgingly because he hadn’t really earned it)_ , and he made his way back over toward Ed and the others.

Ed’s radar went off. He whirled around and watched Roy hug a woman near the back porch. When she hugged him back, Ed straightened his shoulders and stalked out of the group.

“Odds,” Havoc said quickly.

“I ain’t taking that bet,” Breda said. “All the money is on Ed and we all know it.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Sarah asked. She and Winry rejoined them, handing out punch to the guys and watching Ed’s retreating back.

“The General is hugging a _girl_ ,” Breda snickered. “We can’t have that.”

Al and Winry exchanged a look and a sigh.

Sarah cocked her eyebrow at him and looked at Havoc, who in turn was giving Breda an exasperated look. Breda shrugged.

“She’d find out soon or later,” he said, chugging the punch and then grimacing. “Too many damn kids running around, nobody has spiked the punch yet.”

“What is it I’m supposed to be finding out later?” Sarah asked them, hand going to her hip.

Breda gave Havoc a grin while Fuery shifted uncomfortably and found the scenery fascinating. Falman decided he and Abigail should go and inspect the snack table, and Havoc just sighed while Al rubbed the side of his nose and hmm’d a little.

“Ed’s gay,” Winry said. “The General is his boyfriend.”

Everyone in the group exchanged glances, _(except for Falman, he had made good his escape)_ , and shifted a little.

“No shit,” Sarah said. “Blondie and Eye Patch Sex are a couple?”

“They’ve been a couple for a long time,” Al said, leaning into the group and lowering his voice. “But they are very discreet, I’m sure you can understand why.”

“Oh hey,” Sarah said. “I’m good with it, don’t worry.”

Al relaxed a bit and smiled, nodding to her.

“Ed on the final approach,” Breda said. “Here we go.”

Everyone turned to watch.

  
Just as Ed got within striking distance, a man joined them. Ed staggered to a stop and almost turned around to flee, but he realized the Xingian man was not the same Xingian man he’d grown accustomed to avoiding. Where the hell was ‘The Mooch Who Would Be King’ anyway? He hadn’t shown up yet and Ed let himself have a sliver of hope that he _wouldn’t_ show up at all.

Roy and the woman pushed back from each other and dropped the hug to holding hands and Ed scowled until he saw the woman’s face, then Roy could hug her all he liked. When she saw him, her eyes widened as she dropped Roy’s hands and closed the distance between them quickly, her arms going around Ed’s shoulders.

“Ed! It’s so good to see you, you don’t know how worried I was for your sorry butt and Hot Stuff,” Anna hugged him tightly. “I can’t believe it, you look great. You’ve gotten so tall.”

Ed was flushed and patting her back awkwardly; he met Roy’s grin over Anna’s shoulder.

“I’m keeping her,” he informed the General. She thought he was tall.

  
Anna drew Ed over to where Roy and the Xingian man stood, releasing Ed’s hand and taking the Xingian man’s arm.

“Okay you guys, I want you to meet my husband. This is Shen Xu,” she said with a smile.

Roy blinked, Ed blinked. They looked at each other and blinked, then looked back at the Xingian who smiled and bowed formally. Ed and Roy hastily did the same.

He was a tall man with a thick, black braid hanging over one shoulder. He wore a xingian style silk shirt under a western style blazer, with western slacks and shoes as well.

“I’m very pleased to meet you,” Shen said in his heavily accented amestrian, “Anna speaks highly of you both, it is a great honor.”

“The honor is all mine,” Roy said. “You’ll forgive my astonishment, Anna didn’t tell me she was married in her letters.” He shot Anna a look.

“I knew I’d be heading back to Amestris soon,” Anna said. “I wanted to ambush you in person. We both know it was Ed I really wanted to see anyway.”

“Not everyday somebody comes back from the dead,” Roy agreed, giving Ed a sidelong look and smirk.

“You must be a very patient man,” Ed said, looking up at Shen Xu, “or a glutton for punishment. Anna has never led me to believe she’d be a wife someday.”

“I take that back, Hot Stuff,” Anna said. “He could have stayed dead, you know.”

“My wife is very wise,” Shen said with a smile. “She has great determination and spirit, and many, many opinions she is not afraid to share. I look on it as my penance on the journey to heaven.”

“Wow,” Ed said. “You insult really elegantly, I should take lessons.”

Anna elbowed Shen in the side and yanked Ed’s ponytail.

***

Al spotted the Colonel standing just under the tent talking to one of the Generals that Al recognized as General Fane. He headed over slowly, intending to keep a polite distance until they’d come to a break in their conversation, to ask the Colonel if she was having a good time. Her profile was drawn and serious, and Al inched a bit closer, concerned. She must have caught the movement out of the corner of her eye, because she turned to look at him, then back at Fane. She excused herself and the General glanced at Alphonse once before nodding and walking away.

“I’m sorry,” Al said immediately, coming forward. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, Colonel,” although he hadn’t really heard anything.

“It’s all right, Alphonse. I’d rather you hear such rumors from me, than to hear them just drifted about,” she said.

He had an immediate dilemma. This sounded serious, but the reality is he _hadn’t_ heard anything. His curiosity was piqued, however, and he wanted to know. He struggled with his own guilt of not telling her, and instead walked up to be quite conversationally close.

“The General, our General, Mustang,” she clarified, “has been doing some unusual things lately. It’s received the attention of the higher ups here; they’ve been discussing it. He might be considering a bid for Parliament after all.”

“You mean as Prime Minister?” Al said, eyes widening. “But I haven’t seen any overt moves in that direction at all,” the young man folded his arms. “He’s seemed quite normal, content even.”

Riza studied him for a long moment then sighed.

“This really isn’t anything to be brought up at your birthday party,” she said.

“But it affects me and it will definitely affect brother, please,” he appealed, “can you tell me what you’ve heard?”

She hesitated a moment more, as if weighing options in her head. She was so damn _unreadable_ , and Al wasn’t sure why. Every human emoted, even if they held their expressions in check. Their body language was a good indicator of their feelings, but the Colonel has learned to check that too and it was frustrating to Alphonse, who was used to being able to feel his way through situations, as well as articulate them.

“Very well,” she said. “You’ll notice that the General is playing host to a certain Xingian ambassador. It’s rather unusual for diplomatic assignments to be passed through the military these days; that has become the call of the House of Representatives. I’ve learned that the Xingian court sent their representative at the _General’s_ invitation, not Parliament’s. That’s not to say he didn’t go through the proper channels,” the Colonel continued, “he did in fact lobby the invitation himself and received the go ahead from the council.”

“All right,” Al said. “So he’s decided to get into the diplomatic end of politics, how is that related to running for Prime Minister?”

“The General has access to intelligence many in the House do not,” the Colonel explained. “It seems recently there have been some disturbances on the border of Xing to the south. It could be that Xing is hoping to make militaristic, as well as political, allies. I myself don’t have access to the exact nature of the disturbances or their severity, but I do know that many of the Generals feel that Parliament is letting some of our truce bearers run over us. You’ll remember the land dispute on the borders of Drachma and how it was redistributed into Drachman rule despite the Amestrian farmers that had been settled there for generations?”

“But it was territory that had been claimed from Drachma in the first place,” Al said. “Part of the truce was handing it back over, the Generals knew that. If the General were to make a successful bid for Prime Minister and win, wouldn’t he have to resign his commission to serve?”

“Not necessarily,” the Colonel said. “He would be allowed to keep his rank as a reserve, with an advisory capacity.”

“But why would the General want to be Prime Minister and put a military hold back on the Parliament? “ Al said. “Isn’t that what he fought against? I don’t understand.”

“Perhaps it’s the lesser of two evils in his mind,” the Colonel said quietly. “He wanted control of the country to make it a better place.”

“But it is, we’ve been at peace for a few years now,” Al said. “If he wants to take control for that reason, it seems moot. He’s happy now, he and brother are together and things are quiet.”

“It could be he feels something is brewing that he doesn’t think the current administration can handle,” the Colonel conjectured. “He has his fingers in many pies, even though he doesn’t necessarily _show_ it. Maybe Ed brought more than himself back to the General, perhaps he gave the General his ambitions again.”

“Brother wouldn’t press the General to run for Prime Minister,” Al said. “That’s insane; it would certainly take away from their time together, not to mention… you say he’s got his fingers in many pies?” Al trailed off. His brain was geared to theory and speculation, it had trained itself over long nights of emptiness when he had no one but himself to talk to. By running theories and observations through those long nights in cold steel, he’d been able to piece together a great many things, to see what wasn’t seen by the simple regard or eye.

“I’ve heard more about him in these last few months than in the six years you were out looking for your brother,” the Colonel said. “He’s been very active recently.”

“Alchemy has never been offered as an academic course before,” Al said slowly. “Alchemic study was to be done alone, finding a mentor as a rite of passage, but now it’s being taught. Just one new class… in the military academy.”

“I don’t understand your correlation,” Hawkeye said.

Al hugged his elbows tighter and didn’t quite meet her eyes.

“It wouldn’t be such a forerunner in my mind had I not just had the chance to think of it moments ago,” he glanced across the yard where the group still stood; Ed, the General, Anna and the man with her had joined them now. “My brother and the General have an unconventional relationship.”

“Yes,” Hawkeye said, “that is true.”

“If the General were to run for Prime Minister, it could be brought to light as something to use _against_ him in a campaign. It’s not a very widely accepted notion, two men together.” Al turned back to the Colonel. “Alchemy isn’t taught in academies, but suddenly the _military_ academy decided to form a department and they asked my brother, a very famous alchemist, to take the open position.”

“You think the General had something to do with it,” the Colonel said, her tone soft and speculative.

“Credibility,” Al said. “The General needed brother to have credibility. That way, if his relationship did come to light during the course of a campaign, it could be shown that brother is a scholar. What’s more, he’s doing his part for the country by teaching alchemy to the next generation of researchers… of State Alchemists, and he’s doing it at a very prestigious school. It’s like he’s given their relationship government approval.” Al unfolded his arms and then refolded them.

The Colonel furrowed her brow and frowned a bit.

“Brother wasn’t offered that position,” Al went on, “the General _created_ it. He somehow leaned on the board of directors of the Academy and created it.”

“But it’s not a bad thing,” the Colonel said. “Ed seems to enjoy it; you see how he interacts with his students.”

“That’s not my point,” Al said. “What I’m saying is, he’s falling back into past patterns: manipulation and control,” Al shook his head, “I don’t know, maybe I’m reading too much into this, but I know brother wouldn’t like to know the position was created for _him_ , not as something the academy was actually considering doing.”

The Colonel sighed heavily and met Al’s eyes.

“This is something that we don’t have concrete facts for,” she said. “So it’s not something that needs to be dwelt upon _today_. I regret bringing this up, Alphonse; I certainly didn’t intend to bring such heavy discussion to your birthday party. You should be having fun, not worrying for the General or your brother.”

“No,” Alphonse said, “it’s alright. Believe me Colonel, there has been no one in my life as forthcoming with me as you, and I treasure that. I want to know these things; they affect the people around me that I care about. Parties are rumor mills and we both know it, my day wouldn’t be complete without a little speculative conjecture,” he smiled.

“Well then,” the Colonel said and smiled, “happy birthday.”

Alphonse smiled back and gave her a half bow.

“Thank you very much, food for thought is the best present of all,” he said.

***

Once Al had left, Winry had been claimed by Elysia and the General and Ed had taken Anna and Shen to introduce around, Havoc, Breda and Fuery all edged closer to huddle around Sarah. With the polite company out of the way, they could get her _real_ opinion of the Ed and General as a couple situation.

She looked at them, arched an eyebrow and put her hand on her hip, but she said nothing, merely casting her gaze at one, then the other, waiting for one of them to break and _ask_.

Breda broke first.

“What do you think of that, you know, the General and Ed…” He gestured with his drink because he couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

“I think it makes them hotter,” Sarah said and grinned as she took a sip of her punch.

“You have sick taste in women,” Breda said, leveling a look at Havoc, but Havoc just grinned and shrugged. He liked bad girl heaven.

“Why is that sick?” Sarah said with glee. “Come on Breda, I know you think two chicks going at it are hot, I’ve seen your magazine.”

“Only because you were snooping,” Breda said. “But that’s different, I mean, you don’t see chick couples.”

“I think it’s only different for you because you know the participants personally,” Sarah chuckled. “Men and their double standards, it will never cease to amaze me. What’s wrong Breda, feel threatened?” she teased. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” her grin turned wicked.

“Screw you,” he snorted. “She’s a real piece of work,” he said to Havoc. “You have my sympathies, man.”

“I don’t want your sympathies,” Havoc grinned and slipped his arm around Sarah’s waist. “I know it’s your code word for jealous.”

“Do you think it’s because Ed looks like a girl?” Fuery suddenly burst out and turned beet red, but he couldn’t seem to hold it in now that he voiced it.

They all turned their head to look at him and he squirmed.

“The General always liked girls, do you think Ed looks like a girl with his long hair?” It was obviously something he’d been _dying_ to ask someone.

“Blondie is hot,” Sarah said, “but he doesn’t look like girl, he’s all boy.”

“That he is,” a smooth voice said behind them. The General moved around and took his position in the huddle, folding his arms and smirking. Havoc snorted at him and grinned, Breda shook his head and Fuery looked on the verge of fainting.

“Well, you’d be the one to know,” Sarah said, grinning wide. “But were you attracted to him because he looks like a girl, that’s Cain’s question.”

The General looked thoughtful for a moment and tapped his chin.

“No, I was attracted to him because he’s good in bed,” the General said. “I would know that, too. I taught him all he knows; plus some other sentimental things I don’t feel the need to share.”

“Man, it’s still weird. I think I could live to be a thousand and it would still be weird,” Breda shook his head and tugged at his collar. “I mean, it’s you and Ed’s lives and it’s okay if that is you know, good for you and all. You were such a lady killer though, I mean Havoc used to live in fear and awe of your conquests, hell we all did… I don’t get it. I mean it’s _Ed_.” Breda shrugged.

“Everyone one knows love is deaf, dumb, blind and stupid,” Sarah laughed. “Live and let live.”

“When are you going to let them break out the real booze,” Havoc asked. “Don’t tell me you’re going to stiff us and just give us wine.”

“When it gets dark, the parents will be taking the kids home,” the General said, “you can wait a while.”

“So it’s going to be a real party after all,” Sarah said, “I look forward to it. Does blondie drink?”

“Yeah, but he’s not any fun,” Breda said. “He’s easy to get riled up, then he comes after you with the weaponry,” Breda slapped his right arm. “If Ed’s drinking, you got to wait until he’s practically on his face before you start picking on him.”

“What’s more,” Havoc added, “if he does get drunk and chases you, the General here gets all protective and won’t let you clock the little shit with anything.”

“It was a steel pipe,” the General snorted. “You could have killed him!”

“Oh,” Havoc said, “never mind that mighty mite wanted to shove his steel arm down my throat.”

“What are you complaining for,” the General snorted. “You got away.”

“Let’s make a bet on who gets shit-faced first,” Havoc grinned, “I’m running low on spending money and my girl here needs to be treated right.”

“Once again, you make these damn things too obvious,” Breda said. “It will be Ed, naturally followed by Fuery here because one drink does him in and he has to see someone else go balls up before he’ll take a sip. Then you, and the General is going to be all reserved because the other Generals are here and he has to be a suck up.”

“That’s so unfair,” the General said. “I have to follow the rules, how would it look at the next Generals fan club meeting if I got shit faced with all the peons?”

“Yeah,” Sarah said. “Eye Patch Sex can’t break the General’s code; he’s a man with morals.”

“Morals?” Havoc snorted hard and rolled his eyes. “When they were handing out morals, the General cut line to take a leak and chat up some chick at the water fountain. Morals and the General are only passing acquaintances.”

“I’m not going to argue,” the General said, “but do you think I should, for appearances sake? I think I like Eye Patch Sex, I’d like my desk plaque to say that.”

Ed came trotting up then, eyed them all and looked at Roy.

“I thought you were coming to get Havoc and bring him over,” he said. “I’m not playing hostess to your gaggle of military morons, so get him over there. What are you guys talking about anyway?”

“The General was telling us he taught you everything you know,” Sarah said with an evil tainted grin.

“Oh really, well I can do whatever that bastard can do,” Ed snorted. “Not only that, I can do it better, faster and blindfolded with my hands tied behind my back.”

Ed blinked in confusion as Havoc and Sarah howled with laugher, then everyone jumped when Fuery fainted.

***

Al was suddenly surrounded and grinning.

“Congratulations! Congratulations! Congratulations!” Elysia and Winry chorused. Al threw his arms around Elysia, lifted her, spun her and set her before Winry to ruffle her hair.

“I know that one,” he said, “it’s what you tell a person to bring them good luck!”

“Tomorrow, Elysia and I are going to bake you a cake,” Winry said. “a birthday after your birthday.”

“I hope it’s that cake you always used to make me when I lived in Risembool,” Al said. “There can never be enough of that cake.”

“That’s my mom’s cake,” Elysia said excited. “Winry told me! My mom makes the best cake in the world!”

“The best pies too,” Winry grinned.

“I know,” Al said, “that’s why there can never be enough.”

He’d never gotten to taste a cake Gracia had made herself, or a pie, but they were fond sentimental memories of train rides and dinner with Lieutenant Colonel Hughes that Al was glad to have back.

“Your present table is huge,” Elysia told him. “You’re really lucky so many people like you and came to your party, you’re going to get lots of presents,” she grinned.

“I am lucky,” Al said. “But I’m luckier I have you and everyone else, that’s the best present.”

Elysia threw her arms around his waist again and Winry kissed his cheek.

They may not be blood, but they were family.

***

The troop of caterers double timed it into the backyard and began readying the tables for use. Flowers and candles were carted in, and people began to make an eager ring around the tent. Ed, on the other hand, was chasing a black and white terrier that had to go back into the house and knew it. He was finally cornered with Elysia’s help, and Ed tucked him under his arm, waved at Roy, pointed at R.D. and then the house. The General nodded.

“I’ll save you a seat,” he called as Ed headed for the porch.

Ed went in, picked up R.D.’s water bowl from beside the ice box and headed for the bedrooms.

“Good try little guy, but nothing escapes an Elric,” Ed told the dog as he pushed the bedroom door open with his foot and set the water bowl inside. He then put R.D. down and jumped out of the door quickly, pulling it shut.

When he turned to go back down the hall, he ran into a silk covered chest.

“Hello,” the Prince said, “sorry to be late. Did you miss me?”

 

**

 

Ed felt crowded. He took a step back and ended up against the door of the bedroom. He could hear R.D. scrabbling at the other side and snuffling.

“I missed you the same way I’d miss a toothache,” Ed snorted.

“You like pain,” the Prince blinked. “I hadn’t taken your for the masochistic type, but then again you have automail. I suppose that must be interesting, do you remove it and reattach it during sex?”

Ed’s eyes widened and it took him a moment before he could speak.

“No, you mooching fuckhead,” he yelled. “I don’t like pain, I meant it like I wouldn’t miss a toothache… what the fuck, get back and let me by!” Ed put his hands flat on Ling’s chest and made to shove him away.

The Prince leaned into them at first, then brought his hands up, grabbing Ed’s forearms. He took a hard step back, jerking Ed forward and off balance, when the Prince’s back hit the opposite wall, he still had a grip on Ed’s forearms and he swung them wide causing Ed’s chest to come up against his own. As the startled Alchemist looked up at him, he bent his head and claimed the parted lips of the man.

Ed was too stunned to react at first, but then he exploded, screeching his protest directly into Ling’s mouth and wrenching his automail arm from Ling’s grip. He went up with a knee, but he only hit the wall and snarled savagely at the Prince who was smirking from him a few feet away.

“What’s wrong?” the Prince asked. “It’s a custom in my country to kiss your host in thanks for an invitation to a party.”

Ed scrubbed at his lips with the back of his sleeve and made a threatening step in the Prince’s direction.

“I didn’t fucking invite you,” Ed screeched, “the General did,” he panted.

“So this is true,” the Prince said, rubbing his chin.

“If you fucking try to kiss him, I’ll kill you,” Ed bellowed and launched down the hall, but the Prince was already moving.

“You’re beautiful when you’re jealous,” the xingian teased and ducked through the kitchen door before death by automail could get his hands on him.

Once out the backdoor, the Prince made a beeline for the General and his group as Ed charged after him, trying to ignore the stares. The General saw him coming, turned to greet him and bowed; the Prince stopped, templed his hands and also bowed. Shen Xu, standing with the General’s group, went to his _knees_ and Anna bowed deeply, which only incensed Ed more. Roy looked up and over the Prince’s shoulder in Ed’s direction; his expression became a little alarmed and he quickly stepped around the Prince to put himself between Ed and Ling.

“Ed, is something wrong?” he asked and made a subtle patting motion with his hand. Ed knew this gesture, it was one of Roy’s ‘calm down’ or ‘quiet down’ motions he’d used on Ed in meetings Ed had to attend when he was still enlisted and looking for the stone.

Ed made the obvious and physical effort to control himself, he fisted his hands, he took long deep breaths and he kept his eyes on Roy’s. The General seemed satisfied and waited for Ed to join them before turning back to the group.

“We should get a table,” the General said. “Where’s Alphonse? I’d like to introduce him to the Prince.”

Everyone turned expectant eyes on Ed, who he raised his eyebrow and then scowled.

“I’m not the Al sitter, you know. He’s out enjoying his party… fine, I’ll go find him,” with that, Ed marched away.

The group moved under the tent. It was then the General found out Gracia had arranged a large circular table to be placed in the middle which was to house the birthday boy and his entourage.

“The woman thinks of everything,” the General said smiling. Of course the other Generals would be seated here as well, but the lower officers were shunted off to the table to the right. When Ed and Al returned, an elaborate game of duck-duck-goose ensued as everyone decided where everyone else was going to sit.

Roy watched for a moment before just pulling out a chair and inviting Alphonse to sit. Al smiled and sat, Roy sat to his left and Ed sat to Roy’s left. Ling sat to Ed’s left, so Ed jumped up, ran to Al’s right, and sat.

“Brother, let the Colonel sit there,” Al whispered, elbowing Ed a little.

“I don’t want to sit by Prince Pain In The Ass,” Ed whispered back. “I’m your brother I should sit by you on your birthday.”

Al gave him his pitiful look and Ed worried his bottom lip, but sighed, got up and waved to Riza. He started back to his original spot, but stopped and leaned down to whisper in Roy’s ear. Roy quirked an eyebrow and looked back at him, but it was Ed’s turn to use a pitiful look. Roy sighed, got up and moved one seat over, and Ed grinned as he sat in Roy’s abandoned seat. Now the General sat between Ed and the kiss-happy, royal mook.

As soon as everyone was more or less settled, the General stood and held up his water glass, striking it with his spoon to get everyone’s attention. He waited just long enough for people to get a little fidgety over whether he was actually going to speak or not and straightened his collar.

“I would like to thank you all for coming, this is a very important day to us, and it is only heightened by the presence of our friends,” he said. “Today is Lieutenant Colonel Alphonse Elric’s eighteenth birthday. Lieutenant Colonel Elric earned his State Alchemist Certification at the age of twelve, an amazing accomplishment for such a young man, and has been steadily rising in the ranks ever since. He is without doubt, a valued and honored member of this great country’s military force, and an alchemist without equal in his field. He has been written and quoted in many leading alchemic texts used by the leading authorities of this country for the last five years and we would like to honor this happy occasion with a toast.”

Immediately, the waiters sprang to life and champagne glasses were distributed as the tent filled with the sound of popping corks. The General waited patiently as each adult was given a toast maker and each child’s complaint was shushed. With this accomplished, he lifted his own glass high.

“I would like to offer this toast to Alphonse Elric, philosopher, theorist, alchemist and friend. May he have a long and fruitful life and career. We are all richer from his intelligence, we learn from his humility and we strive to be worthy of his friendship,” he said and smiled down at Al. Al grinned and blushed deeply.

There were cheers from around the tent and the clinking of stem wear. The General clinked glasses with everyone at the table, sometimes having to lean over very far to do so, and Al also stood and stretched, even leaving the table a few times before he was able to drink his champagne.

The General patted the air for silence once the chorus of ‘speech’ had taken up, and waited until he had everyone’s attention again.

“Let’s eat first, I’m starved!” he called jovially and there was more cheering as he sat and Ed bumped shoulders with him, grinning.

“Well,” the General said. “If I get you fed, you won’t fidget through Al’s speech,” his smiled turned smirky.

Ed pinched his thigh under the table.

***

Whenever Ed’s eyes strayed anywhere near the Prince during dinner, the Prince was looking at him, or wiggling his fingers at him or smirking at him. It was annoying and Ed kept leaning back and forth to use Roy as a shield. What was his royal asswipe’s problem? What the hell was that little speech in hall about sex? Why the fuck had he _kissed_ him? Ed leaned back to look behind Roy, and as predicted, the Prince leaned back too.

“Knock it off,” Ed hissed. “Just eat as much as you can stomach and leave already, your royal presence is noted.”

“What shall I knock off,” the Prince grinned and shrugged. “I think your slang is very interesting, it’s so literal and provocative. I think you should accompany me to many events so that I may observe social interaction more thoroughly.”

Roy turned and looked over his shoulder at Ed and Ed sat forward again, frowning. It didn’t help that Ling also sat forward and wiggled an eyebrow at Ed, but then the Prince seemed to school his expression a bit and look up. In fact, the Prince looked rather sheepish and straightened up altogether. Ed puzzled over that a moment until he glanced up and saw the General looking at the Prince. The General must have finally noticed the exchange going on between his right and left hand sides.

He did not look pleased.

***

After the dishes had been whisked away, a very large cake was carefully carted in and set in the middle of the large round table. Ed felt a pang that the candles were lit by matches and not a dashing man in white gloves, and Al was prodded to stand and make a wish.

“I really don’t have a wish,” Al said. “I have everything I want, but if I’m pressed, I guess my wish is for peace among nations, understanding among people and… a pony!”

Everyone burst into laughter and applause, and Al almost burst a lung trying to blow out the candles.

***

Ed wanted to feed Roy cake. He wanted to feed Roy cake so badly, he almost couldn’t taste the cake he was eating. He wanted Roy to suck frosting off of his fingers and lick his lips and open his mouth for more. He wanted to lean forward and lick off that white speck of frosting dotting the General’s chin, he wanted the General to deliberately smear frosting over his lips and look at him with that one eye half lidded.

He just _wanted._

Of course he couldn’t do it here, but a chunk of that birthday cake was being saved, yes it was, and stuck in the ice box until the guest were gone. Then that chunk of cake would be savored all… night… long. Ed squirmed in his seat a little and tried to concentrate on other things. When the General stood beside him again, he looked up at him, almost half hopping he was going to announce to the gathering that he and the Professor had a sudden and pressing engagement. Then he was going to take Ed by the hand and they were going to leave and find a nice closet somewhere with a lock on it. The cake would be there, naturally. The dark, the lock, the cake and Roy. Yes, that was definitely a plan.

“Okay, NOW we can have the birthday boy make his speech,” the General announced and he nodded to Al, who stood up and smiled. Al looked down at Ed for reassurance and his big brother grinned and winked at him.

“I’m really bad at this,” Al said. “So please excuse me while I stumble through this speech. I know that I’m just repeating things the General has already said, but I am very moved by all the people who have taken time out of their lives to make this day special for me. In order for a celebration to be a celebration, people who are our loved ones and friends need to be close. Some of you I have just met today, but that doesn’t make you any less important in what this day means to me, both now and in the future.” Al stopped a moment and glanced down at the Colonel then over at his brother and the General, took a deep breath and continued on. “Please bear with me while I thank a few people in particular who have made it possible for me to be here and have these wonderful memories to begin with. General Roy Mustang has been my guardian and inspiration for many years. The first time I came to Central, he was there to welcome me. Perhaps not in such a manner as either of us might have liked, but from that moment on, he has been a significant part of my life. He made it possible for me to achieve goals, impossible goals; without his support and guidance, I don’t know what I would have done or where I might have ended up. I owe him more than simple thanks for everything he has done, but ‘thanks’ is the word that is deemed appropriate for moments like these. Thank you, General Mustang.”

There was a round of applause as Roy and Al looked at each other a long moment and Ed rubbed his foot on Roy’s leg under the table.

“In that same light is Colonel Riza Hawkeye,” Al said. “Also one of the first people I ever met on my journey to who I am today. I credit her with my strength, my insight and my ability to let reason lead me in things that my heart would be overwhelmed by. She is true a inspiration, incredibly intelligent and a very good friend. She was there through the dark times and I’m grateful she’s here for the good times.”

Again there was some applause.

“Pinako and Winry Rockbell are more a part of my family than anyone else. Their love and kindness has not only fostered me, but my brother as well. As children, when we were lost with nothing left in this world, they took us in and not only gave us a home, but gave us hope and courage. They showed us the best of humanity and we learned from their lessons to trust people and have faith in ourselves again.

My fellow collegues: Jean Havoc, Himance Breda, Vato Falman and Cain Fuery were also there, by our sides though thick and thin, and I’ve learned true friendship from their words and actions. Gracia and Elysia Hughes, who helped make this day a reality, have always been the most kind and generous of people, and I even would like to remember Gracia’s husband and Elysia’s father, Maes Hughes. He was a man of incredible courage and compassion, who took it upon himself to aid and protect two boys floundering in spirit; he taught us what caring for others was really about. Also, Izumi Curtis taught us to fight, use Alchemy and showed us the path to better ourselves and make the world safe for those around us. This list goes on and on, and since I don’t want to keep you here all night, there is just one more person I wish to speak about.”

Al gathered himself again and he looked down at Ed, who was looking up at him, and indicated him with his hand.

“This is my elder brother, Edward Elric,” he said. “This is one of the most amazing people you will ever have the honor of meeting in your life. He is the embodiment of devotion, determination and love. The sacrifices he has made for me and others in this world will never be repaid in full; if there were a monument to the giving nature, his name would be the first listed there. He has inspired me, insulted me, enlightened me and bullied me through the darkest of roads. And together, we have seen hell and conquered it. Together we have fought and struggled and won against impossible odds, and I know, without a single doubt in my mind, that I would be dead if not for him. There is nothing in this world, in this lifetime, that will ever compare to my big brother. He will forever and always be the one I turn to in times of sorrow and joy. I am a better person because the creator saw fit to place me in his shadow, and that is not something to be upset about, that is something I _embrace_. I live my life everyday because he is here and because he has taught me the most important lesson in life, and that is life itself. I guess my true wish is this: no matter what comes, no matter where life leads me, I always want to know my big brother is there and I want him to know I’m always there for him.”

This time, the applause was a standing ovation. Al looked down at Ed, who had a peculiar look on his face, and leaned over and hugged him hard. Ed ground his forehead into Al’s shoulder.

“Wipe your eyes on my shirt,” Al whispered in his ear.

Ed nodded hard and did so, sniffling once and taking a few deep breaths.

Finally, Al straightened back up and took a deep breath himself. He reached into his inner jacket pocket and took out an envelope. The General then stood himself.

“In summation,” Al said, “I hereby tender my resignation to General Roy Mustang and thank him for the many opportunities my years of service have given me.”

The General smiled and took the envelope, tucking it into his uniform and nodding to Al.

“Hey Havoc,” Al called out over the tables, “I’m a FREE MAN!” he threw his hands into the air and whooped and the crowd jumped to its feet again.

***

Darkness began to fall, the cater staff began setting up large yard torches, and as predicted, the parents of the children present began making their goodbyes. Ed and Al stood as an impromptu hand shaking line as they all filed out through the side gate of the back yard.

The General gave the nod for the good stuff to come out and the band began to tune up their instruments. The mounds of gifts were transferred into Al’s bedroom and R.D. was allowed back out on his leash as long as Elysia agreed to keep charge of him.

“Finally,” Breda said, accepting a beer mug from one of the cater staff, “I thought I was going to die of thirst.”

“I know what you mean,” Havoc said. “But I knew the General wouldn’t hold out on us all night.” Havoc passed a martini glass to Sarah and took his own mug.

The Prince excused himself from the gathering of Generals and started through the yard to where Al and Ed still stood, talking. He turned his head as a hand landed on his elbow and he found himself pressed in the direction of the bar instead.

“Let me get you a drink, Your Highness,” the General said smoothly. “Have you had amestris lager? Here is your chance to broaden your culinary observations as well as your social ones.”

“I have not had the pleasure,” the Prince replied back evenly. “How kind of you to offer, perhaps we should get one for the Professor as well?”

“The Professor needs no encouragement to get his own drink,” the General said as they came up to the bar. “In fact, we often encourage the Professor not to drink.”

“I see, would that be because of his _age_ or his temperament,” the Prince questioned. “He does seem a bit young in comparison to many of his associates.”

The General smiled stiffly. He was right, the Prince had his eyes where they shouldn’t be, had his goals set on claimed property.

“It would be because his friends are foolhardy enough to taunt him into a drunken rage that could land him a murder conviction,” the General said and nodded to the man behind the bar. “He’s not one to hold his tongue or anger when liquor is available.”

“He becomes quite uninhibited?” the Prince said, “but I fail to see how that is a change from his sober self. He has a very sharp wit and tongue to match. Perhaps you’re underestimating him.”

“Not at all,” the General said. “I am in a position to see his every mood, good or bad, and know when he is affected. He looks to me on many matters, you see. We are _very_ close.”

“As well as mentor and student should be,” the Prince said as the General put a mug into his hands. “The older among us have much wisdom we can share with the next generation. It is written that the wiser a man is, the grayer he becomes,” the Prince glanced up at the General’s bangs.

Roy took a long draw on his beer and checked his temper. He needed this bastard, he _needed_ him. But at what price? No, he trusted Ed. Ed could handle himself. Of course he could, how could someone live through all that he has lived through and not be able to handle any situation? The Prince was a consummate flirt and his buffoonery was set cleverly in place to throw people off track of his very sharp mind, but Ed was used to dealing with such individuals.

“I’ll take that more as a compliment instead of a slight about my age,” the General said, regaining his composure without the slightest hint it had slipped even a bit.

“I didn’t mean it as a slight,” the Prince said. “In fact, it’s quite impressive for a man of your years to have such a position of power. General Fane had several interesting conjectures about your current ambitions as well. You certainly left an impression on my father, enough that he decided I should come here and see all you had to offer.” The Prince’s eyes trailed back across the yard where Ed and Al were still talking, but had moved over to a table where Winry, Pinkao and Gracia sat.

The General drained his mug, sat it back on the bar and nodded for a refill.

“I’m glad to know I left the Emperor with such an impression,” the General said. “Power is what most men respect, and it takes power in this world to keep what is yours. But, it’s also bad manners, as well as karma, to use it inappropriately. This is a lesson a wise man knows and a younger man has to learn the hard way. The only true lessons are painful ones; they tend to stick with you throughout your life.”

“I agree,” the Prince said. “But as it is said, nothing ventured, nothing gained. In some instances, the pain might be worth it.”

The Prince and the General regarded each other for a very long moment, then the Prince broke into his customary grin and bowed deeply.

“Thank you, General, for your wisdom and your lager,” he said when he straightened back up. “Both were very heavy and thought provoking, things I might think to avoid in the future,” he turned then and walked away as the General squared his jaw and turned away as well.

The tables were moved to the fringes of the tent and out into the yard. Candlelight set their table clothes aglow as several large tiles where laid where the tables had been and the band began to play.

The singer, a slender, lovely woman in a deep, red, shoulderless dress called for the birthday boy to lead the first dance. Al swallowed and looked at Ed who winked at him and for a moment his eyes strayed to a group of uniformed individuals where a blonde Colonel stood deep in conversation, but then he turned to Winry and smiled as he held out his hand. She grinned, took it and they went to the improvised dance floor where the woman in the red dress began to sing.

He wanted to dance with Ed so badly, he almost couldn’t keep his mind on his current partner. Gracia was a lovely dancer and he smiled down at her, remembering the many times he’d watched her and Maes dance, but Roy was more a listener than a dancer and as the singer sang to him, _(for in his mind, all the lovely torch singers sang to him alone)_ , he really wanted to feel a different body curved against his. He wanted the inevitable snort, the missed step or two, the scent of the shampoo he’s used this morning and the subtle press of square hips against his own.

Roy just _wanted_.

His mind shouldn’t have been straying to one of the few times he’d coaxed his lover to dance, naked in the confines of their bedroom, to a phonograph playing on the dresser. The feel of that heavy blonde hair against the back of his hand, as it swayed, unbounded, in time to their steps; the flash in his golden eyes that said he was enjoying the closeness even as his mouth protested…

When the dance ended, he and Gracia parted, nodding to each other and clapping in polite cadence to show their appreciation of the woman in the red dress’s singing talents. The General retired from the dance floor, having passed Gracia off to another General of her acquaintance, and hadn’t gotten more than a few steps when he recognized the first notes of a certain song.

“Ed,” he said, walking up behind the young man still standing at the table, speaking with Pinako, “could you accompany me into the house for a moment, there’s something I need you to help me with,” he said.

Ed looked surprised, but nodded and smiled at Pinako before turning to follow the General across the yard toward the house. The General opened the door, let Ed precede him in, then closed it and pressed his thumb over the lock.

“What are you doing, I though…” but Ed broke off with a half yelp as he was dragged against the General’s chest.

“Listen to the song,” the General whispered, catching a gloved hand, wrapping his arm around the small of Ed’s back, forcing the younger man into a slight arch against his body as he began to move.

 _At last, my love has come along…_

Ed’s eyes went half-mast and he turned his head to the side. The General took the invitation, the jaw, the ear, the slope of his neck.

Yes, yes, this is what he wanted. The General turned them, reached out, hit the light switch and the kitchen went dark.

 _My lonely days are over, and life is like a song…_

Ed’s hand slipped to his waist, his fingers pressed, his hips arched and the General’s lips found the pulse of his throat as the hand around his back slid lower to the crest of his buttocks.

 _At last, the skies above are blue…_

Ed’s mouth found the side of Roy’s jaw as they turned again, and the General tightened his hold once more, finally claiming his lover’s mouth. It was a slow battle of tongues, a grind of hips and they shared the very air around them for many moments.

 _My heart was wrapped up in clover, the night I looked at you…_

They parted lips and Roy’s eye traced the contours of the face tilted up to his in the darkness.

“Everything Al said is true,” he whispered. “But I have my own list to add. Edward Elric is heat and desire and lust,” the General whispered in a gravely tone. “He fills me and makes me whole; there is nothing in my life that will ever compare to the life he has also given to me.”

“Love you,” Ed managed to get out, “love you, love yo…”

The General’s mouth swallowed the rest of the words, but Ed continued to move his lips even as their dance slowed to the point of almost stopping while they stood kissing each other in the middle of the kitchen floor.

***

He was going to ask her, he was, he really was. He paced the edge of the tent for a few moments and came to a stop when an arm landed over his shoulders.

“I know what you’re contemplating, my friend,” Havoc whispered in his ear. “I’m here for you. I have your back and if she starts firing, I’ll try to distract her.”

“You’re very reassuring,” Al grated out and sighed.

“Just go on and ask her, the worst she can do is say no,” Havoc said. “Believe me, I’m an old veteran. It might feel like a knife in the chest, but it won’t kill you.”

Sarah walked up to join them and took Havoc’s arm that wasn’t over Al’s shoulders.

“Look like it’s gonna be slow dances all night, babydoll,” Havoc told her. “The singer is really fine, but it’s a shame I won’t be able to sling you all over the dance floor; I’m sure Breda wanted to see your panties.”

“Oh I’ll show him my panties if he asks,” Sarah said. “It’s not like they’re special.”

Al coughed and rubbed his nose, and Havoc grinned and shook him by his shoulder.

“Al’s the shy type,” Havoc said. “We’re embarrassing him. He won’t even ask the Colonel to dance.”

“I don’t blame him,” Sarah said. “Who’d want to dance with one of those bozos, they’ve been standing around like blue clad marionettes all night, yapping their jaws and making us work twice as hard to keep this party hopping.”

“No, no,” Havoc said. “See the blonde woman standing with him? That’s Colonel Hawkeye. Sheesh, you should have paid attention, I told you there would be a test.”

Al laughed despite himself and Sarah gave Havoc a little shove, but then she looked over at Al and grinned.

“Go ask her, how can she say no?” Sarah said. “You’re so cute, don’t be shy.”

“Thank you,” Al mumbled, then squared his shoulders. “Okay,” he said, “I’m going to do this.”

“That’s my boy,” Havoc slapped him on the back. “Remember, if she starts to reach behind her back casually, make a break for the tables, that should be plenty of cover.”

Al groaned and rolled his eyes and stood still until Havoc gave him a little push.

***

Roy grabbed Ed’s elbow as he put his hand on the doorknob, and Ed looked over his shoulder at him.

“We have to go back out,” Ed said. “Al will be looking for us and a lot of people saw us come into together. I want to go to the bedroom as bad as you do, but priorities man, priorities,” he grinned.

Roy laughed and pulled him back for one more quick kiss.

“Ed,” he said, with an unreadable look on his face, “you’re mine, you know that, right?”

Ed blinked in confusion for a moment then grinned and shook his head.

“Yeah,” he drawled. “I may have gotten out of the army, but I never managed to get this damn collar off.”

Roy kept hold of him for a moment longer and just when Ed furrowed his brow, he released him.

“I like giving you a long leash,” the General said. “But that doesn’t mean I want you to run away.”

“You’re in a weird mood,” Ed laughed. “I didn’t realize you’d already had that much to drink,” he opened the door and stepped outside. “You usually don’t get overly protective unless you’re drunk.”

“I wouldn’t call this protective,” the General said lowly behind him. “More like possessive.”

Ed would have turned to question him further, but once the General was out in the yard again, one of the other Generals called out to him. Roy walked past Ed, but gave him a sidelong smile as he did so and Ed shook his head, wondering where Al had gotten off to.

***

Al cleared his throat and Riza turned her head to him as the band began to play and the woman in the red dressed caressed the microphone stand, leaning her lips in close.

 _You give your hand to me, and then you say hello…_

“Colonel,” Al said, “might I have the pleasure of a dance?”

 _And I can hardly speak, my heart is beating so…_

The Colonel’s lips parted and she actually looked surprised for a moment; it was a wealth of expression for the woman and Al felt his heart flutter.

 _And anyone can tell, you think you know me well, but you don’t know me…_

“I’m not much of a dancer, Alphonse,” she said and took step toward him, almost involuntarily.

 _No you don’t know the one, who dreams of you at night…_

“Neither am I,” he said bravely. “But that’s never stopped me before. I would really like to show you that as much as you don’t think you can dance, you really can in comparison to me,” he smiled and tried to joke.

 _Who longs to kiss your lips, and longs to hold you tight…_

“How can I say no then,” she said, and when Al held out his hand, she took it. He walked them slowly to the dance floor and turned to face her, lacing fingers with her and settling his hand on her hip. He thought in that moment he might die, but that was alright, he would be dying happy.

 _To you I’m just a friend, that’s all I’ve ever been, ‘cause you don’t know me…_

“This singer is marvelous,” she said, letting him take the lead. She moved with him; close, but not too close; touching, but dancing was touch as a necessitation and not an optional thing.

 _For I never knew the art of making love, though my heart aches with love for you…_

“I’m really grateful to Alex; this is my birthday present from him,” Al said. “He hired the band and the singer; he’s very good to me.”

 _Afraid and shy, I let my chance go by, the chance that you might love me too…_

They missed a step together and became briefly closer than they were before, her chest to his and Al struggled to keep his breathing normal as they both looked at their feet and tried to reason out where they should go.

 _You give your hand to me, and then you say goodbye…_

“It is nice to know another bad dancer,” she joked softly. “At the very least, we’ll be the laughing stock together. When you’re embarrassed with a friend, it’s not as bad.”

 _I watched you walk away, beside the lucky guy…_

“Not as bad at all,” Al said, raising his eyes to hers. “In fact, I think I rather like it.”

 _Oh you’ll never know, the one who loved you so…_

General Fane appeared beside them, grinning as he tapped Al on the shoulder.

“Come on, let me show you two how it’s done. Pity on the poor Colonel’s feet, Alphonse,” the man laughed.

Al looked at Riza for a long moment, then stepped back politely and gave her a little half bow.

“Thank you for the attempt at dancing,” he tried to joke. The Colonel smiled and looked like she might have said something, but General Fane moved in on her then and they turned away.

 _No you’ll never know, the one who loved you so…well you don’t know me._

Al turned and left the dance floor, avoiding his brother’s concerned gaze as he headed for the bar.

***

Ed joined him there after a few moments and Al quietly handed over his drink and ordered another. Ed looked at a loss for words, which was exceedingly rare, and Al felt that somehow he should take advantage of it, but it just wasn’t in him. After a few moments of silence, in which Al finished his drink and ordered another, Ed’s vocabulary found it’s way back to his larynx.

“Hey,” Ed offered. “I saw you dancing and talking. Uh, how did that go?” he asked.

“It went fine, we tried to break each others feet while talking inanely of being embarrassed,” Al said. “It’s my usual grace and style under pressure, I seem to think I’m seven feet of amour around the woman, it’s a wonder she agreed to dance with me at all.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Ed said, “you actually danced, Roy just drags me around where he wants me to go,” Ed sighed. “Come on Al, she likes you, I know she does.”

“I know she likes me too,” Al said. “She just doesn’t like me the way I _want_ her to like me, and quite frankly I’m at a loss on how to accomplish that. Having all that great insight when I was thirteen sucked. At that time, I could have cared less about getting girls to like me, so I didn’t put any thought into it.”

It was then both brothers noticed another figure had joined them. Ed looked up and scowled, and Al looked a bit startled.

“Your Highness,” Al said. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you standing there, can I get you a drink?”

The Prince didn’t reply. He smiled enigmatically and raised a single finger then he jabbed it right onto the brace that was bolted to Ed’s collar bone. Ed snarled and raised his hand to bat the Prince’s away, but then the Prince spoke and both the brothers stopped.

“In Xing, your vaulted Alchemy is called Pharmacy, and it is used to treat sickness and injury,” he said low as if it was conspiracy to speak it. “I’ve never known of a lost limb being replaced,” the Prince continued, “but then, I’ve never known such powerful alchemists either.”

It was Al who grabbed the Prince’s hand and the man actually blinked in surprise, opening his eyes wider than Ed had ever seen him do before.

“Pharmacy? Alchemy to treat wounds?” Al said eagerly. “I would love to hear more, are you a Pharmacist? Can you introduce me to one?”

The Prince studied Al for a long moment, then his grin returned and he turned his hand in Al’s and gripped it.

“I can help you,” the Prince said. “for the nobility of your cause and because you are the brother of my friend.”

“I’m not your friend and what nobility?” Ed said. “Al’s just a knowledge sponge.”

Ling frowned and turned to look at Ed, who frowned back and glanced at Al.

“Do you really not see the possibilities in this? I suppose I should be grateful that there is an Elric among you who isn’t so literal,” the Prince said. “Is it not beyond your vision to realize it might be a chance to regain your missing limbs?”

Ed visibly started as Al reached up and clasped the Prince’s hand between his own and shook.

“This is excellent news; I’m preparing a proposal for a grant from the military! Your Highness, if you could arrange for me to meet with a skilled Pharmacist, or an introduction letter to one in Xing, I would be in your debt.”

“Wait a minute Al,” Ed said. “This is crazy, you don’t want to associate with this guy, he’s a mooch and a con artist, I don’t care how royal he may be. Besides, I’m fine! Things are fine just like they are, we’re lucky to get this far, I don’t want to do anything to mess this up.”

“Brother, I haven’t upheld my end of the deal,” Al said.

“Al, there was no deal,” Ed stressed. “What happened wasn’t any obligation on you; can’t we just forget this, forget the past and keep going on like we’re doing now? I don’t want to risk you, hell I CAN’T risk you. No, Al, forget it. Even if you go to Xing, I won’t cooperate.”

Al just stared at him for a long time, dropped the Prince’s hand, mumbled an apology and walked away. Ed gaped after him and made to follow him, but the Prince caught his elbow and Ed whirled on him, drawing his fist back only to have that arm caught as well. He jerked his head around, but wasn’t surprised to see Ran Fan, though she’d been unseen the whole of the night. He relaxed his shoulders and threw his hands up in surrender. He wouldn’t physically beat the Prince, he’d do it verbally.

“You fucking asshole,” Ed snarled. “Look what you’ve done; I can’t believe you’d open your fat mouth like that, who asked you?”

The Prince clasped his hands behind his back and looked at Ed with a thoughtful expression, sighing.

“You are a very selfish individual,” the Prince said. “Although I do not know the circumstances behind your automail, and I do not think you would tell me, it seems to affect your younger brother deeply.”

“It shouldn’t, it’s not Al’s responsibility,” Ed cried. “I got myself into this mess, I got him into… an even worse mess and we finally straightened it out. What the hell do you know about it? You should keep your nose out of my damn business, and keep your lips to yourself while you’re at it,” Ed hissed.

Ling looked at Ran Fan and Ran Fan bowed her head a bit.

“It’s disappointing that you would have so little regard for your brother’s wishes,” Ling said.

“Human transmutation is illegal,” Ed ground out. “If the military knew what he was up to, he could be arrested and imprisoned.”

“We are not talking about transmuting a human,” the Prince said. “Unless an arm has sentience? I have not heard of this,” he looked again at Ran Fan and she shook her head back and forth slowly.

“You are missing the point,” Ed said. “It would be a transmutation preformed on a human and therefore it would be human transmutation and that is illegal.”

“We don’t have such restriction in Xing,” the Prince said and Ran Fan nodded agreement.

“You just stay away from my brother,” Ed said. “He’s got enough complications in his life and doesn’t need a two-bit swindler like you adding to his baggage. You mess with him and Prince or not, I will personally kick your ass from here to Xing, got it?”

“I would not presume to think for your brother,” the Prince said. “I can see you have that taken care of.”

Ed balled his fists and threw himself forward, stalking away. The Prince looked at Ran Fan and she bowed again, but when the Prince turned to look at Ed’s retreating back, she was gone.

***

Roy rubbed Elysia’s back and she rubbed her face sleepily against his side. In his other hand, he held R.D.’s leash who he seemed sleepy too, sitting placidly by the General’s feet. He’d watched the entire exchange and now watched as Ed followed Al doggedly around the tent until Al finally turned around, folded his arms and listened.

The party had begun to wind down and that was just as well; he was relieved to see Al unfold his arms and Ed’s posture relax. Gracia was saying her goodnights and she went to Roy, smiling and taking her sleepy daughter’s hand before heading for the house. The Rockbell women stood and joined her, and Roy began to walk slowly over to where Ed and Al stood.

He got waylaid briefly by some departing guests, thanking them for coming, and saluting to a few others who were on their way to the gate as well; he noted the caterers were also starting to pack things up. As he approached the brothers, they both turned to him, Ed with relief and Al with concern.

“General,” Al said when he got in earshot. “If there was a chance to restore brother, would you take it?”

“Al,” Ed said, “don’t drag him into this. Roy, don’t listen to him, that damn Prince has pumped his head full of strange ideas.”

“You would, wouldn’t you?” Al pressed.

“I suppose it would depend on the circumstances,” the General said slowly, “and the risks.”

“That’s just it, there are too many risks,” Ed said. “We were lucky the first time around, tell him Roy! Tell him what a bad idea this is,” Ed pleaded.

“The Xingian method of alchemy is used for medicinal purposes,” Al said.

“I know that,” the General said. “I see the Prince has mentioned it to you, he’s discussed it with me before, in my office.”

Both brothers looked taken aback for a moment, then Al charged forward again.

“Then you know about it, about the possibilities,” Al said.

“I’m not above speculating on the possibilities, but there are no known successful cases of limb regeneration, Alphonse,” the General said. “The basic principle is still in effect, you can’t make something out of nothing.”

“You both have such limited vision,” Al said. “It makes me want to scream.”

“Al, please, it’s your birthday,” Ed pleaded. “Can’t we just agree to disagree, just for tonight?”

Al sighed and ran a hand through his bangs. He nodded and shook his head.

“Okay, you win,” Al said. “But only because it’s my birthday. You always manage to wheedle presents for yourself,” he younger brother suddenly grinned. “One day you have to tell me how you do that.”

“It’s purely unintentional,” Ed snorted. “So I don’t know how to instruct you.”

Roy smiled then turned his head with an arch to his eyebrow.

The two brothers noticed and turned to see what he was looking at. Al laughed and Ed gaped.

“How the hell did they get Fuery on the roof?” Ed said and he and Al ran toward the scene.

***

Roy walked Anna and Shen to their car and stood with them on the front walk for a moment.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Roy said, “what do you know about Prince Ling? I mean, is there anything I should know when dealing with him?”

Anna and Shen looked at each other for a moment, then back to Roy.

“There isn’t much I can tell you,” she said. “Other than he’s a member of the royal court. I didn’t even know he was a Prince until you introduced him.”

“I’m also unfamiliar, other than the fact he is my countryman and a Prince,” Shen said. “Although, he is one of the lower sons.”

“Lower?” Roy asked.

“The Emperor has many sons,” Shen said. “Prince Ling is one of the last born; Prince Wu Yao is the heir apparent to the throne.”

“Is that helpful?” Anna said. “I thought you would know that, seeing as you’re his diplomatic contact here.”

“It’s interesting,” Roy said. “I suppose it could be helpful. Well, I thank you for that much, and I also thank you for coming. Are you going to be heading out to visit Harry?”

“We’re going to stay with him for a few days,” Anna said. “I’ll tell him you’re still as big a jerk as ever, eye patch not withstanding.”

“He won’t be surprised,” Roy grinned. “You know, you really should think about settling down in civilization soon, especially know that you’ve got a husband.”

“What fun would that be?” Anna said. “Besides, Shen would get bored with domesticity; he’s a real outdoorsy type.”

“I prefer the moon to street lamps, if that is what you mean,” Shen said.

“Be careful, write me when you get somewhere with a post box and let me know the next time you plan to surprise me, I think I might keel over if you show up with a kid.”

Anna laughed and hugged him, then Shen and Roy shook hands and bowed heads to each other.

He stood on the walk, waving as they drove away, then turned and went up the walk into the house, pulling the door shut behind him.

***

Al and Ed stood looking at the mounds of packages in his bedroom. R.D. sat on Al’s bed and kept getting up, turning circles and laying back down.

“R.D. has the right idea,” Al said quietly. “We’ll take care of this in the morning.”

Ed patted his brother on the back and turned to leave.

“Happy birthday, Al,” he said with a smile.

“Thanks, Brother. This has been the best one ever,” Al hugged him before he got out the door and R.D. gave a plaintive sigh.

“All right, all right,” Al said, “I’m coming.” Ed chuckled as he made his way down the hall to his own bedroom, going in and shutting his door as well.

***

“I fucked it up,” Ed whined into Roy’s throat as Roy stroked his back and kissed his head.

“You didn’t fuck it up,” Roy said. “What’s with this need to slam yourself every time you think you’ve had a good time? Really Ed, it’s getting a little old.”

“You are just Mr. Sympathy tonight,” Ed growled tiredly. “I had a fight with him, on his birthday,” Ed moaned.

“Al didn’t seem too upset,” Roy said. “You agreed to disagree, are you ever going to take people at their word?”

“Probably not,” Ed said. “Most people are full of shit, yourself included.”

Roy turned the stroking into patting and ground his chin into the top of Ed’s head. Ed grunted and squirmed in complaint.

“You really are such a joy,” Roy said. “I’m not sure what I would do without you.”

“Quit trying to dig a hole in my head with your chin,” Ed snorted. “It hurts, bastard, and why didn’t you tell me about that xing bastard’s pharmacy thing?”

“Well, for one thing, I don’t have to discuss everything with you,” Roy said. “For another thing, I figured something like this might come up. Unlike you, I pay attention. Every time Al’s hedged around about looking for a way to get your arm and leg back, you abruptly change the subject.”

“Is it wrong to want to protect him,” Ed said quietly. “Is it wrong to be terrified of what might happen? We’ve lived through it before, how could he have forgotten?”

“It’s not wrong,” the chin moved, the lips returned. “I don’t think he’s forgotten, but I do think he made you that promise. It’s a sticky situation, Ed. I’m not sure what to tell you.”

“Don’t tell me anything,” Ed said. “Tell _him_. Roy, you have to tell him not to pursue it, he doesn’t listen to me like he listens to you.” Ed sat up on his elbow and looked down into his lovers face, who reached up to stroke over his forehead and down his cheek.

“Ed,” Roy sighed. “I can advise him, but telling him a definitive no… you tell me, did that ever work on _you_?”

“We’re not talking about me,” Ed said. “This is Al, he’s different.”

“I’ll grant you that,” Roy said. “But in a lot of ways, he’s exactly like you. This blinding devotion and loyalty he demonstrates is one of them.”

Ed flopped back down again and sighed, pushing hard up against Roy’s side and slinging his arm across him.

“It’s a bitch when your good qualities come back and bite you on the ass, isn’t it?” Roy snickered.

“Bastard,” Ed said. “Only you can make that sound like a bad thing. Look who’s criticizing me, the King of Morally Bankrupt.”

“Guilty as charged,” Roy sighed. “I’ve already had this conversation once today.”

“Oh really?” Ed grinned. “Starting to slip, old man, when complete strangers can see right through you.”

“It was lumped into the discussion about how you looked like a girl, and if I wanted to fuck you because you looked like a girl,” Roy said.

Ed was up on his elbow again, scowling down into Roy’s smirking eye.

“Who said I looked like a girl?” he demanded.

“Who started the V.D. rumor?” Roy returned.

Impasse.

Ed flopped down yet again and went through the same settling motions.

“One day,” the General said into the darkness of the room, “someone will slip up and tell me.”

“Then I’ll be visiting you in prison and you’ll be someone else’s girlfriend,” Ed yawned.

“Hell, I’m pretty enough to own the cell block,” Roy said. “The warden too, so I’m not afraid to serve. Come on, you can tell me,” Roy gave Ed a little shake.

“Stoppit,” Ed mumbled. “I’ll put it in my will and when they read it to you, then you’ll know, but by then, you’ll be a little gray haired old raisin and you’ll forget it as soon as you know it.”

“Your will isn’t going to do me any good,” the General snorted. “You’ll be around far longer than I will; I’ve already decided you’re not allowed to leave my side ever again. Dying is leaving, so that’s strictly forbidden.”

“Well we better go together, then,” Ed murmured and yawned. “Because I’m useless without you and don’t want to be left behind.”

The General rolled onto his side then and tugged Ed against his chest; Ed sighed and yawned again.

“Like it when you get me to say mushy stuff,” Ed said sleepily with his lips against Roy’s collarbone. “Because then you want to climb all over me and keep me warm,” he sighed.

“You don’t have to say mushy stuff to get me to do that,” the General said softly, kissing along Ed’s forehead.

“S’okay,” Ed sighed, “maybe I like the mushy stuff a little. Don’t get used to it.”

“I won’t,” the General grinned and watched his lover drift to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

He stepped to the left and then he stepped to the right, but neither move seemed to do him any good. He could feel his anger building and the heat rushing toward his cheeks as he pulled his lips tight and folded his arms over his chest.

 _Brother, if you continue to overreact, no one is going to take you seriously. You should hold your breath and count to ten when you feel yourself becoming angry._

 _Hold my breath and count to ten?_ Ed had quirked an eyebrow at his younger brother.

 _If you hold your breath, you can't speak, and if you count to ten before speaking, then perhaps the first words out of your mouth won't be angry ones,_ Al had said reasonably.

Well all right then, here it goes. Ed took a deep breath and began a mental count. Around seven, the man blocking his way suddenly bowed deeply.

“I've come to apologize,” the Xingian Prince said. “I'm afraid I may have overstepped my boundaries the last time we spoke, I truly did not mean to upset you or your brother at his celebration.”

Ed was a bit taken aback. The man sounded... well he sounded _sincere._ Sincere was something Ed couldn't lightly brush aside, he'd spent too many years on the receiving end of incredulity and knew what it was like to have sincerity thrown back in your face. He shifted and sucked on the inside of his cheek.

“Assuming I'm going to accept your apology, I'd like to throw in a few caveats,” Ed said. “Just to know you're making this... sincerely.”

The Prince straightened up and tilted his head. He smiled, but not his usual goofy grin, just a regular smile and nodded.

“What is your pleasure?” he asked the Professor. “I am willing to concede a few things to make amends.”

“It's not every day a Prince apologizes to a commoner,” Ed said.

“You are anything but common,” the Prince assured him.

Ed shifted a little uncomfortably. Something at the edge of his brain nagged him; the Prince was always saying these things, like compliments. Ed wasn't sure how to take them sometimes and wasn't sure how to respond. If the Prince was looking to throw him off guard, this was certainly the way to do it, which was why he needed to get a handle on it and not let the Prince's fancily-woven words distract him. That and the kissing, that definitely had to go.

“Okay,” Ed said, “about Al. I would appreciate it if you laid low and let his current obsession blow over. I know you said you'd help him and really, that… well, that's nice of you because you'd be indirectly helping me, but see, I don't need any help, I'm fine just the way I am. I wish I could make Al see it, but he's stubborn and I guess he gets that from me,” Ed sucked on the side of his cheek again. “I'm not asking you to lie to him, just make yourself unavailable. You're here on a diplomatic mission, just avoid him if you can, that's all. That way, your honor won't be besmirched by lying or going back on your word.”

The Prince looked thoughtful for a long moment and it was an expression Ed had not seen on him in quite this way before. It was a bit fascinating watching the fine, black eyebrows arch up a bit and the way he tilted his head back while keeping his arms folded across his chest.

“I would think any sibling of yours would have your powers of reasoning and persistence,” the Prince said. “What am I to do if he tracks me down physically? Am I supposed to lie to him then? What are the conditions if I can't avoid him?”

Ed sighed and shook his head, rubbing at the bridge of his nose.

“No, I won't ask you to lie for me,” Ed said. “If he hunts you down physically, I suppose there is nothing I can do.”

“It’s rare, such devotion,” Ling said. “You should be grateful your brother cares for your welfare as he does,” the Prince informed him.

“I am,” Ed said. “But you don't fix what isn't broken. I can walk and run and hold things, I'm not broken and Al has other things to worry about in his life, I'm fine. Don't you have brothers?” Ed asked.

The Prince smiled enigmatically and nodded his head.

“I have brothers,” he said, but ventured no further on the subject.

Ling was being nice and that just rubbed Ed in all sorts of uncomfortable directions. It was really hard to be mean to the idiot when he was being nice, smiling and making conversation like that.

“I can't believe I'm saying this,” Ed ventured. “I'm feeling like dumplings for lunch, you game for some Xingian food?”

The Prince's smile widened to a grin and he bowed his head once quickly.

“Then it's my chance to do your job,” the Prince said. “Allow me to escort you to a fine restaurant I discovered on one of my evenings alone.”

“If you're going to be me and I'm going to be you,” Ed said. “Does that mean you're paying?”

The Prince seemed to mull this over for a long moment before an easy shrug and his well worn grin reappeared.

“I suppose this once I can let you have a taste of being a noble man,” the Prince said magnanimously.

“I'm all ready to oppress your wallet,” the Professor smirked. “Lead the way.”

***

As the door of the office opened, the General glanced up and smiled. He'd been rather absorbed in the paperwork on his desk and hadn't noticed the time; the Professor's head poking in the doorway was an excellent reminder it was time to go home. The General stood and turned to get his coat from the rack. The seasons where changing and there wouldn't be much call for the greatcoat soon, but he loved wearing it. He liked the sweep of it and the feel of the hem around his knees; it had served him well for many years and he shrugged it over his shoulders, looking back at Edward who was still just leaning in the door jamb.

“You're late today, everyone else has gone home,” the General informed him. “I have some good news for you, too,” he walked around to the front of his desk and looked about the papers. He frowned a bit; he'd just had the information, where did he put it?

“Everyone else is gone for the day?” Ed's voice questioned him. “You're here alone?”

“That's right, just let me find the paper I had a moment ago,” the General said. He heard the office door close and the audible click of the lock. He straightened up and turned, eyebrow rising.

“Ed?” he asked.

Ed sat his briefcase down by the door and turned to walk toward Roy slowly. He still had on his glasses, but he reached up and plucked them off, folding them and transferring them into the inner pocket of his jacket. Ed had given up his long coat for the season change, but indulged Roy in his. He wore a smile that was downright suggestive and he went right up to Roy, leaned into him and crowded him back against the lip of the marble desk.

“This is really a security breach, you know,” Ed said. “The General in his office after hours and all alone. Anyone could take advantage of him, anyone at all.”

Roy felt his own slow smile crawl across his face and he put his hands down on the desk top, the butt of his hands on the edge, his fingers curling over the lip.

“I'm capable of taking care of myself,” the General returned. “It would take someone with exceptional talent to pose a threat to me.”

“You know,” Ed said, reaching up and running his fingers under the flap of Roy's uniform jacket, against the buttons and loosening them, “we've had a houseful of people for almost a week. It's been pleasant and I enjoy the company, but I can't say I'm truly sorry they will be gone when we get home tonight,” Ed spread the jacket open and reached up to start on the top button of the starched, white, dress shirt he wore beneath the jacket. “I've been missing our alone time... I think I need a reminder of just what being alone with you feels like.”

Gloved fingers skated into the openings between the buttons and trailed down his bare chest, stopping at intervals to release each button along the way. The General took a deep breath, making his chest rise and fall under the trailing hands as he reached up and fingered heavy blonde bangs, stroking his thumb over Ed's cheek.

Ed leaned forward then, the tip of his tongue making contact with the bare flesh of Roy's chest. Roy hissed in a breath and almost held it as Ed tilted his head, trailed the tip across to a nipple and circled it once. As he provided this distraction, his fingers fell to the white belt holding regulations pants and he began to undo it. He closed his lips over Roy's nipple as the belt came free and the General arched his chest to the suction, his hand falling back to the desk and gripping the lip tightly.

“Alone time with you is something I hoard,” the General husked. “It's something I would go to great lengths to accomplish.”

Ed's eyes rose to his and the tip of his tongue nudged the hardened nub of his nipple back and forth; it sent tingles down the General's body all the way into his groin. Ed's hands pulled the fastening of his pants open then and parted the front as he raised his left hand slowly, placing the fingertips against Roy's lips.

The General parted his lips, mouthed those bold fingers encased in white cloth and pressed upwards with his tongue when Ed pushed them further into his mouth. He groaned around them when Ed's tongue trailed from one nipple to the other to repeat the splendid torture.

Ed's automail hand settled on the General's hip, fingers pressing and kneading. He pulled his other fingers out of the General's mouth and pressed them to his lips again, opening his mouth fully over the General's nipple and sucking hard. The General's front teeth clamped lightly on Ed's fingertips, just hard enough to get a bit of cloth, and Ed drew his hand back slowly, the glove whispering off and falling slack, hanging from the General's mouth. Ed abandoned Roy's chest then and the General made a soft bereft sound, but Ed crooned softly to him and let his naked fingers dance down the General's equally naked torso.

“Ed...” Roy arched slightly, voice muffled around the glove still hanging from his mouth. Ed's bare palm pressed flat to his stomach and began a torturous slide lower, fingertips easing under the elastic of Roy's long briefs. “Ah god... Ed,” the General whispered, letting the glove fall then, tilting his head down to watch it's descent. His own conquering, already knowing his surrender, was inevitable.

Ed began to sink to his knees. He did it slowly, licking Roy's body along the way, pausing to watch Roy's muscles tense and jump to his touch. Roy registered the dull thunk of Ed's metal knee striking the floor; he felt Ed's fingers, some of them smooth and warm, the others cool and scratchy from cloth, grip the waist of his pants. They pressed between the fabric and flesh of his waist, then he felt Ed's tongue again on his lower stomach, right above the beginning of a thatch of dense, dark curls. The fabric caressed his hips and thighs as it was slowly pulled to his knees, the long briefs followed and Roy was naked and erect to the eyes of the man he loved. He tensed, waiting as Edward pulled back as if to examine his prize.

“Do you know what I'm going to do to you?” Ed whispered so lowly that Roy bent forward a bit to hear him better. Gold eyes burned into his black one and Ed's hands gripped his hips.

“I'm going to suck you dry and fuck you blind,” the vision on its knees said. “You have no choice or say in this,” Ed leaned forward then and mouthed Roy's cock, but turned his head to the side, letting the hot length of flesh rub across his cheek as his fingers dug into Roy's waist. He nuzzled then, pushing Roy's cock against Roy's own stomach and pressing his forehead to it, turning his head back and forth like a large golden cat, looking for attention.

  
The General raised one knee slowly, his toes still on the floor, his hips arched away from the hard lip of marble that now pressed into his ass. Ed pulled back again and ran his tongue up the underside of Roy's quivering cock, over the thick vein, right up to the head. He caught the head then, sucking it clean of pre-cum, dragging his tongue hard over the slit, then he released it and Roy sobbed out. Ed lowered his head further, opening his mouth over one of Roy's balls and sucking it in, bathing it with the same hard tongue strokes he'd just given the head, moaning around it.

Roy's toes curled inside his boots, he gasped hard and deep and gritted his teeth. Ed's hands slid down the sides of his thighs, pushing his pants even lower as he released Roy and licked up the inside of one of those thighs, before turning his head to nose Roy's erection once again. Roy let out a half sob and rubbed himself against that slightly upturned feature of Edward Elric's face and Ed laughed.

“My poor General,” Ed cooed. “He's been without for a week, I'm feeling really bad about it.”

“Good,” Roy whined.

“You've been so nice with the hand jobs and all,” Ed crooned. “My poor General...” Ed captured him again, pulling the head into his mouth, leaning up on his knees, going down on Roy.

Roy tossed his head back and moaned low and long. he wanted to wrap a foot behind Ed's back, but his pants trapped his legs where they were. Ed's lips ran a heated path down his length, all the way to the base and then back again. Roy's body trembled and Ed gripped his hips tightly, pulling him forward and pushing him back. The General's breathing was becoming erratic and harsh, his sounds guttural and deep.

“Ed,” he husked, “sweet god, Edward...” he groaned. “It's good, it's good, god it's been too long,” sweat trickled down the back of the General's neck, the lining of his great coat brushed across the back of his bare thighs. The General reached then with one hand and threaded his fingers into thick golden hair; Edward hummed around him then and bore down with his lips, his thumbs pressing painfully into the point where Roy's thighs moved into his crotch, but the General didn't care. The General's hand tightened in Ed's hair, tugging a bit, and Ed grunted the way he always did. It was the fucking sexiest sound Roy had ever known.

“Yes, yes Ed... ahgod, Ed YES,” he encouraged. “Harder love. Please, I need it, need you... sweet god...” Roy hardly felt the press of the hard marble into his back, as he struggled against Ed's grip. He closed his eyes and saw light as he pulsed and throbbed in an almost painful way.

“Mine,” Roy got out, “just as much... as I'm yours...”

  
Ed was hard. The more Roy moaned and sobbed and spoke, the harder he got. Yes, the General belonged to him. He was hard and pulsing in his throat, and Ed knew a fanatic desire to please the man, to make the man scream. He had thought to take this slow and teasing, but it was impossible. Roy just made it impossible, he desired him above all else. What was it about this man that had attracted him, made him hunger in the pit of his stomach and made him ache in the juncture of his legs. He had offered himself to this overwhelming sensation when he was fifteen and he had never looked back, he would never look back. Everything he wanted in life at that moment was here, it was crying his name and pleading with its god and arching to his touch and Ed snarled as Roy's sobs quickened. Yes, make him scream, make him cum. Take everything he has to offer, swallow him whole and then take him. Take him and make him understand what ownership was really about.

  
Roy almost screamed when Ed released his hips; he bucked and Ed compensated. Ed was letting him thrust! It was unreal, the need to bury himself as deeply as he could in the boy's mouth, but this was a boy no longer. This was a man, his lover, his very _life_. He released Ed's hair, gripped the desk with both hands again and arched forward hard. Ed took it, the automail rubbing the top of his thigh frantically, the flesh hand dipping between his legs to cup and press his balls upward. Ed was taking him deep with each thrust Roy made; sweat trickled into Roy's eyes and he threw his head back as the moment seized him, coming and coming _hard_. It was all he could do to keep himself upright, gripping the desk, sobbing raggedly for air. Ed didn't release him immediately either; Ed was with him through the spasms and the wind down and the feeling in his stomach and the almost tears in his eyes. When he finally did release Roy, the older man sagged against the desk, licking his lips and trying to gather the strength to speak, but really, no words were needed. This is just how it was, this was what they were, this insanity and this satedness and this very moment.

This is where they loved.

It was not shallowness, it was not simple carnal desire, it was the will to make each other see the gates of heaven, even if Ed denied it. He watched Ed get slowly to his feet and his hands left the desk to grab Ed's shoulders and pull him forward. Ed stumbled into his chest and Roy wrapped his arms around him tightly, tilting his face down to the flushed one looking up at his.

Ed started to speak, but Roy didn't want words. He covered Ed's mouth, swallowing his sounds, putting everything in to his kiss: his love, his happiness, his satisfaction with his life. Ed's throat worked and he went limp against him for a moment, his hands resting on Roy's hips again, his body molding along Roy's.

They parted after several moments, Roy's lips moving to Ed's forehead, Ed panting slightly in the aftermath of Roy's display of emotion. It was good here, warm and happy. Ed stiffened then, pulled back and Roy loosened his hold, sighing.

“That was incredible,” the General said, voice still a bit scratchy. “Simply incredible, love.” He tried to claim Ed's mouth again, but Ed had a different look in his eye and leaned back out of reach. Instead, pushing and pulling with his hands on Roy's hips. It took the General a moment to realize what he was doing, but it slowly dawned on him. Roy swallowed and resisted a moment as Ed's automail fingers dug in to the point of almost pain, and only then did Roy let himself be turned to face his own desk.

  
Ed dragged the great coat up over Roy's back; he left the white shirt tails hanging because that was just damn sexy. Roy put his hands flat on the desk, bracing up with his arms, and Ed growled behind him, pushing into him. Roy's stomach connected with the cool and hard marble lip of the desk and he gasped. Ed planted his automail hand in the middle of his back and ground his cloth covered thighs against Roy's bare ass.

“Down General,” Ed hissed.

Roy squared his jaw, resisting the push of the steel hand on his back, and finally Ed reached forward with his left hand and grabbed Roy's left arm at the elbow, yanking it back. The General pitched forward off balance and almost struck his chin on the marble top. His stomach tried to contract from the coolness and the lip of the desk bit into his pelvis.

“Ed,” Roy gasped. Then, felt Ed's hands digging into the pockets of the great coat. He knew Ed was looking for the small bottle of lube he habitually kept on him. It seemed like a good idea at the time, especially when he trapped Ed in the empty conference room on the fourth floor that one time, but now he was having regrets. Ed pulled it out of his left pocket and sat it on the desk next to the prone man and Roy finally began shifting for a more comfortable position, not that one could be found on the smooth and cold stone surface.

“Why do you always want to fight me on this?” Ed murmured, pushing Roy's shirt up a bit and leaning down to kiss along the man's bare back. “You always scream my name and come like a freight train, so I don't understand all this resistance.”

Roy was at a loss to explain, but something made him push back up on his elbows again. He felt Ed move suddenly, then cool steel fingers were on the back of his neck, pressing down again.

“Have I ever hurt you?” Ed said softly, sounding a bit put out. His other hand moved from Roy's waist, over a bare butt cheek and down the cleft, his thumb pressing against the ring of muscle there. The General shivered and shifted again as Ed worked his metal fingers on the man's neck in a gentle massage.

“You've never hurt me,” Roy murmured. “It's always good.”

“Then stop fighting me,” Ed returned lowly and slowly released Roy's neck. “Let me make this good for you, I want you to feel good.”

Ed was right. Roy felt the resistance drain from him and he put his hands together, lowering his forehead to them. The marble beneath him was warming a bit, taking on his body heat, and he felt Ed shift behind him, heard the rustle of fabric. In his peripheral vision, he saw Ed's hand close around the small bottle of lube and pull it out of sight. He heard the snap of the lid and felt a shiver run down his body. It was a psychosomatic reaction, an association with pleasure and heat and Ed's husky moans. He felt his cock stir at it and was amazed at the power of suggestion in his own mind.

Fingers moved over him, brushing up his cleft, pushing at the right juncture, and Roy relaxed as he took Ed's finger into him. Ed knew where to go and he stroked Roy on the inside just right; Roy moaned appreciation. The second finger joined almost immediately and Roy felt himself going up on his toes, pressing his lips to cool marble and clenching at the same marble uselessly. It took more time and coaxing to allow the third finger, but Ed was patient. He was so patient and so gentle and so everything that belied his usual nature.

The fingers slipped from him slowly and this time, when Ed pressed against him, it was the delicious heat of flesh on flesh. There was a pause; Ed's breathing filling the void between them, and then pressure. Pressure and heat and the momentary stretch and burn as Ed pressed in, only in increments, pausing at every small sound Roy made. Finally, Ed was as far as he could go. He crooned softly and kneaded on Roy's hips, leaning over to kiss along his spine again, causing Roy to shudder as Ed's cock, buried deep inside him, shifted. Ed took his time and Roy moaned quietly at the hot lips trailing along his spine; he tilted his head back and went up on his toes again, hearing Ed chuckle behind him as he straightened up, causing Roy to groan. Ed's hand's gripped his hips and he began to move slowly, back and forth, searching. When Roy sobbed and shuddered, the fingers on his hips tightened and Ed began to thrust in earnest.

  
It was mind blowing. Ed flung his head back and added his own throaty cries to Roy's. It was tight and searing and he was surrounded and caressed. He thought at first he couldn't get deep enough, and trembled with the need to hold himself in check and stay focused on what he was doing, but then Roy thrust back against him with an abandon that was new to this union. A new level of Ed on Roy that Ed hadn't experienced before and it made his eyes cross and near about drove him mad. Now he was thrusting, thrusting and pulling, trying desperately to gain anything, another centimeter, further quickening of muscle rolling along his cock, just anything to relieve the pressure.

Roy called his name several times and Ed surged at each utterance; the older man's voice broke on the last syllable and he dropped his head again. Ed was fucking him. Ed was the one in charge of delivering pleasure and he knew how to do it, how to accommodate, how to make Roy shudder and moan and cum. He pulled Roy's hips away from the desk, slipped his flesh hand over Roy's stomach and down between his legs, fisting that reawakened flesh and beginning a squeeze and slide. Roy's cries rose in volume, then he went up on his toes again and Ed squawked, trying to go up on his own toes, but wasn't as tall. It caused him to thrust at a different angle and the General cried out in surprise and confusion, and perhaps a little pain. Ed had to release Roy's cock and use both hands to force the General flat on his feet again. Ed leaned onto Roy's back, trying to use his weight to keep the larger man down, and his flesh hand returned to Roy's erection.

They were melded now, moving as one, both seeking the same rapture, both working to the same ends.

“Come on Roy, come on,” Ed pleaded, his control beginning to crumble, he was shaking with both exertion and need; he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. “Come on, General. Please, ah... Roy...”

The General shuddered all over at the sound of his given name and he sobbed against the marble, now made slick with sweat, and warm with the heat Ed was making him feel. He threw his head back.

“Almost,” he sobbed to Ed, “almost... Ed... AH, Ed... love... _almost_...”

Ed wasn't one to speak endearments. To him, flowery words seemed trivial when a name held so much more power, but to hear the word 'love' from Roy's lips in substitution of his own name was a dizzying thing and Ed swallowed, trying to bring his mind back to the need for a measure of restraint; the fact that his lover needed and trusted him to keep the lovemaking good. He wanted to _pound_ , he wanted to slam his forehead against Roy's spine, the wanted to dig his fingers into Roy's hips and pull the man fast and hard back against his own throbbing cock.

“Close,” Roy sobbed to him, “close, love... ahplease... Ed...”

In desperation, he tried Roy's own trick. Surely one endearment said in the heat of sex would be alright.

“Come on, baby... come on...” Ed pleaded against Roy's spine. “Come on...”

Roy tensed all over and wailed, thrusting into Ed's hand and cumming. He tightened and bore down on Ed's flesh still deep inside of him and Ed gave up in those last seconds, his finishing thrusts before his own climax were hard and wild, and then it was over. He lay trembling on Roy's back as they both panted harshly.

Slowly, after several long moments, when the only thing either of them could do was _feel_ , Edward pushed himself up and stepped back, slipping from the General and groaning with the movement. His automail hand was rubbing comforting circles on Roy's lower back and he wondered how he was going to get his handkerchief out of his pocket with his soggy left hand and not get his pants wet. Roy began to try and straighten up then. He went to push up on his hands, but the sweat-slicked marble offered no traction and he pitched forward, bumping his chin and gasping.

“Ah!” Ed said and grabbed at Roy's hips, his soggy hand problem being unintentionally solved on the General's shirt tails. “Roy, are you alright?” he asked, concerned.

The General didn't speak, he merely tried to push up again and Ed helped him, turning him and looking up at his flush countenance and parted lips. Ed couldn’t help it; there was still some lingering vestige of the need to claim Roy, even after fucking the man over his own desk. Ed reached up, automail fingers threading into black hair and fisting as he pulled Roy's mouth to his to kiss him hard, thrusting in with his tongue in yet another variation of intercourse. The General made a soft sound, offered no resistance and closed his eyes. Ed held him there, captive by his hair for a few moments, then slowly pulled his lips away. The General's sound became a bit louder and he leaned forward a bit, as if to follow Ed's departing lips. Ed smiled, then his eyes widened as Roy's knees seemed to give out. Ed threw his arms around the man, but that didn't stop the General's descent. He ended up sitting on the floor of his office and leaning back against the front of his desk, looking up at Ed. They both still had their pants around their ankles; Ed had one hand on the desk and the other still tangled in Roy's shirt, half bent over.

“That was great,” the General said hoarsely and smiled a bit dreamily up at him. Ed felt his own smile slip into place and threaten to become a smug grin, and they both jumped when the phone on Roy's desk began to ring. It was late and Ed gave Roy a quizzical look, but Roy just kept his dreamy smile in place and shrugged, so Ed snagged the receiver and brought it to his ear.

“General Mustang's office,” he said and looked down at Roy who suddenly leaned against his leg and wrapped an arm around it. “Oh, hey Al!” Alphonse was the only remaining house guest and would be staying until the end of the week. Ed tucked the receiver against his shoulder, dropped his hand to the top of Roy's head and rubbed.

“Yeah, we're running late, sorry,” Ed said into the phone. “I should have called, but you know what a slacker the General is, last minute paperwork and all. Did you make dinner or should we bring some? Oh really? Okay just keep it warm, we'll be home in about an hour.”

The General nosed under Ed's own shirt tail and began to kiss the side of Ed's bare thigh and hip. Ed's fingers rubbed harder and he leaned a little more on the desk.

“What's that? No, I was thinking we could go out on Thursday, I have to be in town late that day anyway... out of breath? Well I... uh... look, we'll just see you in a bit,” Ed said. Roy's hand trailed up the back of his leg, onto his ass and squeezed as he dragged his tongue to the back of Ed's thigh.

“Okay I have to go,” Ed said quickly, “see you later!” He hung up the phone, braced himself a moment on the desk, then he squirmed away as the General made a soft snort of disappointment.

“We have to go home, Al's worried,” Ed said. “Come on, let's get you up.” Ed pulled up his pants, then bent down and offered his hands to Roy. Roy took them and held on and just smiled languidly, deciding it was his turn to play boneless.

“Roy, you're heavy and long, it's hard for me to get you up by myself,” Ed grunted and pulled on Roy's hands, straddling the General's legs. “Come on, we have to go home, Roooyyyyy...”

“How is it you always have so much energy after sex,” the General marveled. “I really feel like a nap, I wish you could drive,” he sighed.

“I'll let you sleep on me on the couch after dinner,” Ed bargained. “Come on Roy, get up,” Ed kept pulling, but only managed to slide the larger man away from the desk a little.

The General suddenly pulled back and Ed yelped as he fell onto him and into his arms, his knees still straddling the General's legs and his chest now pressed to his. Roy wrapped his arms around him and pressed noses with him.

“Ask me reallly nicely and call me what you called me while you were doing me on the desk and I'll get up,” the General murmured and gave Ed a peck on the lips.

Ed squirmed in the hold and averted his eyes, working his jaw.

“I called you Roy,” he offered, but the General shook his head and kissed Ed's cheek, working his fingers in slow circles on Ed's back. Ed squirmed a bit more and sighed, rolling his eyes upwards.

“Please get up, baby,” Ed mumbled.

“I have a pet name,” the General cooed, then laughed as Ed pushed away and the General allowed himself to be hauled to his feet. He then stood there smirking until Ed growled at him and bent over to yank the General's pants up.

***  
Al appeared in the archway of the living room door and caught them kissing in the entrance way. They both jumped like naughty school children and Al put his hands on his hips with a raised eyebrow.

“So, paperwork was it?” Alphonse said, folding his arms and leaning on the archway doorjamb.

Ed made a big production of taking off his jacket and putting it on the hook, but the General smirked and shrugged the greatcoat off, giving Al an arch of his own eyebrow.

“Dinner will keep until after you get a shower,” Al said, shaking his head. “You two are hopeless, just had to break in the marble topped desk.”

Ed, with cheeks blazing, fled down the hall and disappeared into the bedroom, R.D. at his heels. The General did his usual smug saunter, winking at Al when he passed him by.

Al just grinned and went to set the table.

***  
 _For thee old stores of fame and power I steal, and holy springs audaciously unseal._

The students bent their heads and dutifully took notes.

“That is Thomas Vaughan from his text _Aula Lucis_ , does anybody here know the texts translated name?” the Professor asked.

He smiled apologetically at Seth and pointed at Tom Pine's raised hand in the back of the class.

“The House of Light?” Tom ventured. The Professor gave him a small half bow and the boy grinned wide.

“Excellent,” the Professor said. “Vaughan, while given to being a rather overtly religious sort of text, did bring forth many thought provoking observations,” the Professor continued. “The coagulation of our water and the solution of our earth are the two greatest and most difficult operations of the Art, for these two are contrary keys: the water opens and the earth shuts.”

Just as hands were being raised, there was a tap at the classroom door. Ed scowled and sighed, held up his finger to the class and walked to the door. He opened it and prepared to give the interloper a piece of his academic mind, but instead he smiled and stepped back, watching his younger brother walk into the classroom.

  
“Hi Al,” came a chorus from the desks and Al smiled, raising his hand and nodding.

“Hey guys, I'm glad you all had a good time at the party, is it okay to borrow my brother for a second?” Al asked.

“Asking permission to borrow me?” Ed grinned. “I wasn't aware they owned me to the point of my needing their approval to have a word in the hall.”

“You are so owned,” Al informed him, then turned back to the boys. “Won't be but a minute, then he can come back and lecture you on Vaughan all he likes.”

“So you heard that,” Ed said, ushering Al back out the door and following him, pulling the door mostly shut, but not all the way, to keep a half ear on the classroom.

“Seems a little heavy for beginners, and with your definitely unreligious leanings, you might want to take it easy,” Al said.

“I'm only using him to illustrate a point about the flow of energies, but never mind that,” Ed said. “What brings you into the city and to my classroom specifically?”

“Well,” Al shifted, “I have to head back East,” he said then threw his hands up in surrender at the look on Ed's face. “I told you I left a few experiments brewing when I traveled here for the party, it seems one of them has gotten a little out of hand,” Al tried to placate. “Don't look at me like that, just let me go and help Parkerson. I promised as soon as the situation is under control, I'll hop the next train right back to Central.”

“I suppose I should get use to this,” Ed sighed. “We'll never be completely free of the military, will we?”

“Ed,” Al said, “it's become like a second family, there isn't any denying it. Besides, you've gone and attached yourself to someone who will have the military as their life long career. It's not such a bad thing; it's changed a lot since we were young.”

“I almost wish Roy still had some political agenda,” Ed said. “A house representative position would suit him and free him up at the same time,” he quirked an eyebrow at Al's face. “What’s that look for?”

“What about a Prime Ministership?” Al said softly. “You know a mere representative role would never suit the Pirate. Not enough plundering, you see,” Al said, trying to make light.

“I don't think so,” Ed snorted. “He's got more sense than to want that job. Besides, we all know I wouldn't make any sort of good political... partner,” Ed shook his head. “I should just be grateful he's content to be a General and accept the fact that I will never be free of blue uniforms. It's as simple as that.”

Al seemed uncomfortable all of a sudden. He suddenly hugged his brother hard and stepped back.

“Right,” he said. “I better get going. I'll call you from East City. Oh, before I forget, speaking of the Pirate, I stopped by his office first on the way here,” Al continued. “It seems my timing is good because he says the two of you have an impromptu soiree to attend tomorrow night.”

“We do?” Ed blinked. “He hasn't told me about it.”

“I think he just found out himself. Seems General Culpepper wants to make your Prince feel more welcome and is holding a dinner party at her place,” Al said. “I really wish I could stick around and attend. Do me a favor, will you ask the Prince about setting up a meeting with me after I get back?”

Now it was Ed's turn to shift uncomfortably, but he nodded once and sighed.

“Sure Al,” he said. “I'll see what I can do, but Ling's pretty busy and he's flighty too, so don't be too disappointed...” the thought never got to finish itself, because Eric stuck his head out the door and cleared his throat politely.

“Um, Professor,” the boy said. “Duffy got his head stuck in a desk,” Eric bit his lip.

Ed sighed and looked at Al, making a shooing motion with his hand.

“Go catch your train,” he told his little brother, “I have to go point and laugh at one of my students.”

Al grinned and nodded before turning with a wave to walk away.

“He's going to point and laugh,” they heard Eric exclaim to the rest of the class as Ed turned to go back in the door.

 

**

 

“What is this about a dinner party with his royal moochery?” Ed asked, swinging into Roy's office and nodding at Breda and Fuery who where sitting at the big table.

“It was just sprung on me,” the General said. “But Culpepper is giving it and I could hardly say no. She's done a lot for me over the years.”

“I don't have to go, do I?” Ed asked and sighed at the look Roy gave him. “Can we at least take R.D. back then?” he asked hopefully and then sighed at the additional look.

“You'll be able to pet R.D.'s mother,” Roy told him. “You know in the... excitement of yesterday, I forgot to give you the good news I had for you,” the General said, reaching down to his stack of papers.

“The Prince is leaving immediately after the party and going back to Xing?” Ed said with exaggerated glee and actually bounced on the balls of his feet. Breda laughed from across the room and Ed fully expected to get another 'look', and he did, but this one was a bit different and Ed couldn't quite place it. The General did not look as put out as he should have.

“You are certainly in a mood today,” the General said and then offered a sheet of paper in his direction. “But no, I was speaking to Rachel down in the secretarial pool...”

“What were you doing in the secretarial pool,” Ed snorted, snatching the paper. Again from across the room, Breda laughed. Ed glanced down at the sheet in his hand and the General took a moment to look in Breda's direction.

“As I was saying,” the General continued, “I was speaking to Rachel Dunbar. She is the niece of Octavious Dunbar, The Hydro Alchemist?”

“An alchemist for my exhibition,” Ed said, his former scowled wiped clean. “Roy, you are a miracle worker. Alex said yes, so between the three of us, I think we can give a decent show. This is all his contact information? I'll have to get right on it. The exhibition isn't for another couple of months, but I think I need to meet the man and then the three of us need to plan what we're going to do.” Ed wandered away from the big desk and plopped down on the couch.

“I'm glad you're pleased,” the General said. “Now I won't get any lip about going to General Culpepper's party, will I?”

“This is equivalent exchange enough to put up with a couple of hours of boring small talk,” Ed said, not looking up for the spec sheet. “At least I can tell Prince Bottomless Pit to hork off tomorrow because he's getting free dinner.”

“Does he still show up for lunch every day?” the General asked, his tone a bit strained.

“Like clockwork,” Ed said. “Heck, he even paid for lunch a couple of days ago when he swung by to apologize for being an asshole at Al's party,” Ed shrugged. “He's decent company when he feels he owes you,” the blonde alchemist grinned.

“It sounds like you're starting to develop quite a friendship,” the General mumbled.

“You know, I would have argued that point last week, but he's not so bad,” Ed said. “Once you get past his incessant need to wear that stupid grin all the time, he's actually pretty intelligent.”

The General made no further comment and returned to his paperwork.

***

Havoc grinned and crushed out his cigarette as Sarah trotted over carrying his dinner. She sat the plate down in front of him with a flourish, dipped her finger in the gravy and held it to his lips. He took the offering and held her finger a moment longer than necessary to suck it clean and then tilted his face as she leaned over for a kiss.

“Hi soldier boy,” she purred when they parted. “Eat up; you'll need your strength. The band playing at the dance hall tonight are real swingers,” she grinned.

“So I hear,” Jean said. “You never give me a night off, not that I'm complaining,” he grinned.

“I got even better news,” Sarah said, putting her hand on the table and leaning against it, “Abby is going to visit her folks; she'll be gone tomorrow and won't be back until Monday.”

“Sucks to be Falman,” Havoc said, looking down at his plate of chopped steak with potatoes, gravy and vegetables.

“You're missing the point,” Sarah said. “Abby will be gone and I'll be in the apartment. Alone,” she stressed.

Havoc looked up at her again, eyes widening a bit. Alone? Sarah was going to be in the apartment alone? What if something happened? What if someone tried to break in? A female alone in an apartment wasn't the safest thing in the world, maybe he should see if one of the other girls could stay with her until Abby came back. That might be the sensible thing to do. But then the male portion of his brain screeched in incoherent rage and he blinked again. She was going to be _alone_... His jaw went slack for a moment as his libido banged on pots and pans for attention. Oh yes, dear lord, she was telling him this because...

He was broken from his inner turmoil when Sarah grabbed his face and turned it toward her, squeezing it to make his mouth pucker funnily.

“Damn, soldier boy,” she laughed, “you have really blonde moments.” Then she kissed him again before skipping off to wait on other tables.

***

The next evening found the General sitting on the bed watching Ed get ready for the party. The young man had developed a fashion sense not quite in the making with the rest of the world; it lent Edward his very own mystique. His high collared shirt, ringed by a dark tie that wasn't tied in a tradition sense, had a bit of its own flair as it bunched elegantly and neatly in the neckline of his vest. He wore somber browns, but they only helped to enhance his unusual eye color and golden hair. The ponytail, Roy figured, must have been necessity. He vaguely remembered the limbs Edward had when he had walked back into Roy's life a little over two years ago. At the time, he remembered thinking they didn't seem to have the dexterity of automail, so perhaps Edward had fallen out of the habit of braiding his hair simply because he couldn't. It really didn't bother Roy, the braid was a boy's measure and Edward's ponytail gave him grace and a bit of panache.

“Must be nice to be military,” Ed snorted, pausing at the mirror to adjust his tie again. “That uniform is a one suit fits all occasions with you.”

“Did you learn to tie your tie like that wherever it was you were those six years?” the General asked. “You wear all the clothes everyone else wears, only differently, I was just wondering.”

Ed stopped for a moment, brushed a hand down the front of his vest and turned to look at Roy.

“It wasn't so different,” he said quietly. “It's almost the same, it's just these little touches off,” he offered. “Only people who look for differences notice them.”

“Is that a yes or a no?” Roy asked.

“Yes,” Ed said with a nod. “It's a yes.”

“Thank you,” the General said. “I appreciate it.”

“We're going to be late,” Ed mumbled, snagging his jacket off the bed and going out into the hall.

It was at least a start, the General thought as he rose to follow his lover.

***

Ed had a somewhat evil grin as he and Roy stood in the receiving line in the elegant foyer of General Culpepper's home. Just ahead of them stood Ling, he was wearing red silk, shaking hands and bowing his head politely; silently at his back stood Ran Fan and another man who Ed didn't recognize. When Roy was prodded, he offered up the name 'Fuu', but that still didn't do Ed any good. He flexed his automail hand, encased in its dove-gray glove, and waited a little impatiently at his turn to give the Prince a hand shake.

  
Ed made Roy go first, and the Prince and the General met eyes in a way Ed found rather odd. He almost pushed Roy out of the way when his turn came, and he immediately gripped Ling's hand tightly, grinning up into his face and beginning to squeeze a bit.

“Ah, Professor Elric,” the Prince said, nothing showing on his face but his usual grin. “It's so good to see you, I'm sorry we missed our usual lunch date,” the Prince stated.

“I knew we would be seeing each other this evening,” Ed said, smirking himself and allowing a bit of a head tilt, “so I figured I'd give my wallet a rest.” Ed squeezed harder and the Prince's smile got a little tight, but they kept right on shaking.

“Your services are invaluable to us,” the Prince pulled out the royal pronouns, looking a bit strained, but shook gamely. “We'll see you are properly compensated for your services, never fear,” Ling squeaked out.

“I'm sure you will,” Ed simpered back. “But it's my pleasure anyway. You should know, I'm not in this for the recognition, I'm all for fostering good relations between our countries.”

“Spoken... like the... brilliant example of... intelligence you are,” the Prince gasped out and bowed his head a bit, the shake starting to weaken.

Okay, the mooch was handing out compliments, time to be nice. Ed eased up on his grip and then let the Prince's hand go entirely.

“See you at dinner,” Ed grinned in triumph and turned to see Roy looking at him with that same odd look as before.

***

General Culpepper was an enthusiastic host. She gave Roy a tight hug and one just couldn't help but smile at the older woman, especially after she brushed down Roy's shoulders so maternally. But Edward got the royal treatment: the General took his arm and escorted him through the house.

“You'll get the tour,” she told him. “I'm so glad you came, I never get to see enough of you and didn’t want to bother you at your brother's party, that's such a family thing.”

“Ah, thank you,” Ed said. He was never sure what to make of the woman. Roy obviously had great respect for her and Ed had often heard of her prowess and excellent strategic abilities. She had been a commander in the north for many years before her promotion landed her an office in Central headquarters, but all in all, General Martha Culpepper was a bit of a mystery.

“Roy certainly is lively with you about,” General Culpepper said as she opened a door off the hallway and many enthusiastic canines crowded the entrance. “Okay, get back my darlings, I've brought you a guest!”

Six terriers all vied for Ed's attention. They put their small paws on his leg, did incredible feats of gymnastics to draw his eye and danced around General Culpepper's feet in adoration. Ed could immediately pick out Moppet, the mother of Roy's terror back home, because R.D. was almost her spitting image in both looks and temperament. The General stood back and smiled fondly as Ed gave several sets of small ears a scratch and looked about the den. It was adorned with many dog show trophies, ribbons and pictures of the General, her dogs and a man with a fedora and grin. The General noticed Ed's gaze and smiled.

“That was my husband, Jonathan,” she said. “God rest him these few years now, we shared the common love of our canine companions,” she said. “Now I just have my darlings as company. We don't have the heart to make the dog show circuit since he's left us.”

“I'm sorry to hear it,” Ed said. “It looks like it was something you both really enjoyed from all the awards.”

“Oh things change,” she said. “People come and go; it isn't so much a loss to me as a tribute to him. He was the best handler and trainer one could hope for. I would never be able to fill his shoes and I wouldn't want to.”

“You've been very kind to General Mustang in the past,” Ed said. “He speaks very highly of you, and uh, he really likes his dog,” Ed said, straightening up despite the frantic pawing on his automail knee.

“He's a good man,” the General said. “You don't often find such integrity and honesty in our line of work. He did many good things, even though some people will dispute that. I firmly believe to this very day he rid our country of a great evil, though I would never be able to prove or voice what that evil was. It's just my way of thanks for his service, in what limited capacity I can provide.”

“He's very grateful, I know,” Ed said.

“So you should,” the General said. “As you are his constant companion and have been so from an early age,” she smiled as Ed looked at her. “Everyone in the military knows of the great FullMetal Alchemist,” she smiled. “Who also helped to rid our country of a great evil but had never been properly acknowledged for it.”

“It wasn't entirely selfless,” Ed murmured. Something about this woman made him feel the need to confess, even if just a little. “It was a happy accident of a self serving cause.”

“That doesn't make it any less valid,” she assured him. “Nor should it make those of us who _know_ the special circumstances any less grateful. I can say with certainty that I'm glad you're back. Not necessarily for your country, but my own self servedness is glad to see Roy Mustang so animated again.”

Ed had never been acknowledged for his relationship with the General outside his own circle of friends. For a moment it was almost frightening, then it was disturbingly warm and he told himself over and over again that he didn't need approval. The world could just go hang, it was... it was love. Love should be honored in whatever form it was found. He had an irrational urge to thank the woman soundly, perhaps even hug her, but he swallowed and nodded his head instead.

She patted him fondly on the shoulder and turned back to the door.

“Come on now,” she said. “Such a handsome young man like you, I'm bound to hear rumors of what we were really doing back here all this time,” she laughed.

Ed grinned and preceded her into the hall as she scolded and trapped the small dogs back in the den with the closing of the door.

“Thank you for the tour and I enjoyed meeting your dogs, and... thank you,” Ed said again.

“You're very welcome young man,” she smiled and led him back to the party.

***

Roy found Ed at his elbow, looking flushed and pleased for some reason and his eyes immediately darted the room to check to see where the Prince was holding court, but Ling had not moved from his spot where he was, obviously deep in discussion with one of the house representatives and a few military personnel. Roy felt himself relax a little.

The call to dinner came just on the heels of the General's relief and he prodded Ed gently with a hand on his back as they all trooped to a lavish formal dining from where an impressive table seated twenty-four comfortably. Ed was seated next to Roy and smiled a little at the formal placard that declared him 'Professor Elric'. He was relieved to find he was far down the table from the Prince and could easily avoid both his conversation and his eyes. As it was, the Prince was seated immediately to the hostess right, and she tapped her water glass for everyone’s attention once they were seated.

“It is my very great honor to invite Prince Ling here with us this evening,” General Culpepper said. “It is my fond wish that as we are now, all sitting around a table, in understanding and friendship, so it should be with our brothers to the East. We welcome you Prince Ling as an honored representative of your father's court and hope that good relations with the noble country of Xing continue for many, many years to come.”

There was polite applause around the table and the Prince inclined his head deeply to General Culpepper.

“I am very honored,” he said smoothly. “In the interest of keeping relationships on good terms, I will not forestall the dinner with a long winded speech, I'm afraid my appetite is already whet.”

There was laughter, Ed shook his head and General Culpepper patted the Prince's hand, calling for the servers to begin.

***

After dinner, there was the usual congregation. Roy and all the similarly uniformed individuals were herded out onto a lovely brick veranda where they could smoke cigars to their heart’s content. Large brandy snifters were also distributed and Ed hastily declined, lingering at the edge of the gathering before the smoke and boring conversation sent him fleeing back into the house. Inside were the wives, who gave him passing glances as he skirted their group looking for a diversion. He finally decided he'd go to the bathroom, not because he really had to go, but to see if it was nicer than most people's houses, because that seemed to be the theme of this place. After obtaining directions and climbing the stairs, he ventured down the semi-lit hallway and was almost slammed in the nose by the opening of the bathroom door. He stood face to face with General Stanton, Daniel's father and in Ed's opinion, all around bore.

“Professor,” the General said as he hitched up on his pants. “I see you are still tagging along after General Mustang.”

Ed flattened his expression and arched an eyebrow in return.

“General Stanton,” he barely acknowledged and sought to move around the man.

“If not for the fact that I didn't have a certain amount of faith in Mustang's aspirations, I might have reservations about my son in your class,” the man said and Ed went still.

“I beg pardon?” Ed said. “I wasn't aware I was lacking in approval for teaching alchemy to children in the academy,” he said tightly. “Your son is an excellent student by the way, very bright.”

“Well of course,” the General said, “he's a Stanton after all. We have a family tradition.”

Ed's eyes widened slightly and he hoped to hell that Stanton wasn't about to throw off his shirt and strike a pose.

“What aspirations is it General Mustang seems to have?” Ed asked off handedly. He really shouldn't be encouraging conversation with this man, but his curiosity got the better of him.

“I'm surprised, since everyone knows good and well you're his... friend,” the General let the word drip from his lips in a way it should never be associated with, his disapproval evident. “But I do have confidence in his bid for the Prime Ministry, despite his certain... leanings. As long as you keep your nose clean and my son doesn't come home spouting some nonsense about men that is… _unnatural_ , I'm inclined to play along with this little charade he's set you up with.”

“Cha… charade?” Ed said, something in his stomach twisting unpleasantly.

“This Professor of Alchemy nonsense,” Stanton continued. “Everyone knows the General strong-armed the board into creating that position... but, I see. Everyone but _you_ , that is...”

“Excuse me,” Ed half growled, “I was coming up here for a reason,” his eyes darted at the bathroom.

“Oh don't hold it against him,” Stanton said, stepping out of the way. “He had to do something about the liability, at least this way he makes it look legit.”

Ed went into the bathroom without a backward glance and shut the door loudly.

  
He leaned back against the bathroom door and concentrated on breathing.

It wasn't true. _It wasn't true!_

It was just the talk of a man with a... aversion to his relationship with the General. Roy would not do something like that. He wouldn't scheme like that, keep things from him like that, manipulate like that...

 _But he has in the past!_

NO! It wasn't like that now, they were lovers, they were _equals!_

He would have told him if he was considering a bid for the Prime Minister's seat. He would have told Ed if the position was offered not because of Ed's knowledge and experience but because _Roy wanted him to have it!_

To make it legit?! What the fuck did that mean?! Roy loved him, he _loved_ him! He wouldn't try to cover it up, lie about it, use it to his _advantage!_ He wouldn't, he _wouldn't!_

 _He's used it before, he plotted and planned your every move, he used you to make things convenient for himself! Remember Youswell?!_

It was different then! Maybe he had, but it always turned out in Ed's best interests anyway...

 _Or is that what he made you think?_

  
 _What about a Prime Ministership? Al said softly. “You know a mere representative role would never suit the Pirate. Not enough plundering, you see._

Ed's eyes widened. No, Al knew? NO! It was just a coincidence, that's all!

 _When is anything in YOUR life ever a coincidence?_

“Roy... would tell me,” he said lowly to the air around him. “Roy would not use me like this,” he assured his invisible audience. “He wouldn't make me a laughing stock and keep me in the dark.”

A tap on the bathroom door jarred him and he pushed away from it before turning to look at the closed door wildly.

“You've been in there for quiet a while, Professor,” a familiar Xingian-accented voice came to him, muffled by the wood. “You're not going through the cabinets, I hope.”

Ed snatched the door open and scowled right into the Prince's face.

  
“I would be going through the cabinets,” the Prince grinned, but the grin faltered, faded. “Edward, are you alright?”

“I'm fine,” Ed snarled, but even to him it sounded weak. “What the hell are you doing up here anyway, come to spy on me in the bathroom? What the hell is your problem; I can't take two fucking steps without turning around and having you breathing down my neck!”

The Prince looked inscrutable; his face neither taking on offense or outrage. He reached up and caught Ed by the elbow and Ed tensed all over, clenching his fists and setting his jaw.

“Tell me what has upset you, who has upset you,” the Prince said with a tone to his voice that confused Ed for a moment, taking the edge off his rising anger. “It disturbs me to see you like this, if you want to take more time to collect yourself, I can see to it you are not disturbed.”

 _What the fuck is his PROBLEM?_

Ed jerked his elbow away savagely and bared his teeth, but still the Prince did not flinch or look away. Ed wanted to pound his face with steel and scream obscenities until the wallpaper peeled. He wanted to fling all this fucking... whatever it was, right back into that royal face and then, maybe then, the bastard would _leave him the hell alone!_

Then what? Then what? Al. He wanted Al. Al wasn't here, Al was on a train to East City because Hawkeye was there and that is what Al wanted. It didn't matter anymore, this world Ed was building around himself. This nirvana Ed was trying to hold onto, Al was out finding his own. He should! He shouldn't! He should be here, his brother needed to talk to someone, he needed to say these things out loud and he needed to sort them out before they strangled him, before he slapped his hands together and just reduced everything he saw to a pile of rubble!

 _He wouldn't use me! He WOULDN'T!_

The Prince grabbed his shoulders, moved him back into the bathroom and shut the door behind them. Ed hissed in a dangerous breath and drew his arm back. Ran Fan was not here to stop him now. He could give this snide, snerking, condescending bastard exactly what he deserved! He tensed at the shoulder and telegraphed his every move; the bastard just stood there. To hell with it, he asked for it! Ed threw a wild punch, but his automail hand met solidly with a palm. The Prince flinched, just a little, but took it, regarding Ed silently. Ed yanked his hand back, stumbled back a step and panted.

“What... what the fuck do you want from me?” Ed finally said, low and tired. “I can't figure out what it is you want from me.”

“I don't want anything from you,” the Prince said. “Save perhaps your friendship. I think saying to you that I would listen if you wish to talk is pointless at this time; you are not one to open up easily, but I think you should hear it. There is someone who is willing to listen,” the Prince inclined his head, just a little. “It would be my honor as your friend.”

Ed just stared at him, unable to form a sentence. Several things whirled in his mind. He wanted Al, he needed Al. Everything felt like it was tumbling in around him, but that was so unfair. He had to let Al go, to let Al finally live his life now that he had it back. He stared at the man in front of him without really seeing him for a moment, struggling with his breath and his agitation.

“I'll... let you know,” Ed said hoarsely, feeling ashamed of himself for a moment for throwing the punch, but he'd needed it, he'd felt some diffusion of the situation flee when his fist had made contact.

The Prince didn't smile or grin, he merely nodded and Ed reached up to rub his face. Then there was another knock on the door.

“It's like the fucking train depot or something,” Ed murmured.

“Ed?” Roy's voice sounded through the door. “I'm told you've been up here quite a while, are you alright?”

  
The Prince turned and opened the door, and for a moment, he and Roy just stared at each other. Roy's eye the skipped over the Prince's shoulder and focused on Ed, his face pulled down in a frown, and he pushed right by Ling, reaching out to put a hand on Ed's shoulder, but Ed flinched back and shook his head.

Roy's eyebrow rose slowly, he looked from Ed to the Prince and back to Ed again. He seemed to have to school his expression and he pursed his lips before he spoke again.

“What's going on here?” he asked, looking at Ed. “Was the Prince... bothering you?” His gaze then turned back to the Prince.

The Prince's smirk slid slowly back into place, but Ed cleared his throat loudly and Roy turned back to him.

“No,” Ed said, “he wasn't bothering me.”

Ling shrugged and looked at Roy mildly, but they both moved as Ed shoved his way between them and out into the hall.

“Ed,” Roy said, following after him, “are you sure you're alright? Do you want to leave?”

“Yes,” Ed said, his voice strangely flat. “I want to go home.”

Roy nodded, put his hand on Ed's back and himself between Ed and the Prince.

“Let's go downstairs then and make our goodbyes,” Roy said, glancing back at Ling and bowing his head. “Your highness, if you'll excuse us?”

“Most certainly,” the Xingian said. “I hope the Professor feels better.”

“We appreciate your concern,” Roy said. Something in his tone made Ed turn and look at him. “But he'll be just fine,” Roy gave Ed a little push and Ed let himself be steered toward the stairs.

Downstairs, General Culpepper expressed her regrets at their early departure, but Roy only half paid attention, his eye drawn to a figure in scarlet silk standing at the top of the stairs. He felt better once they got outside and he could fill his lungs with the still, cool air of the fading winter. Ed was silent as they got into the car and Roy had to keep his eye on the road instead of studying his lover's profile.

 _If that Xingian bastard touched him..._

He would what? What exactly would he do? His grip tightened on the steering wheel. When the situation came to light, and the Emperor turned his ear in Roy's direction, he hadn't expected to have to deal with _this_. Was the price suddenly higher than he was willing to pay? No, he could play this, he could work this out. This was Ed for god's sake, he trusted Ed. If Ed said nothing happened, then nothing happened, that was just the end of it. He caught Ed looking at him out of the side of his eye.

“Want to tell me what really happened?” Roy said softly.

“I told you what really happened,” Ed said tightly. “The Prince didn't do anything, we were just talking.”

Roy shifted his shoulders, arguing with himself out of pressing further. Just like always, just like _always_ , he'd have to wait for Ed to bring it up himself. What had the Prince said? What could he have possibly said to make Ed react like this? He tried not to dwell on it as they hit the thoroughfare. He swallowed... damn it! Ed needed to stop this, he needed to open up when things upset him; how was Roy supposed to help otherwise? Ed had been flushed; he had been drawn and panting. The Prince didn't touch him, Ed would say so if he did.

They finally reached the house, still silent. Roy unlocked the door, cornered R.D., put his leash on him and turned to immediately go back out. Ed continued down the hall and turned to go into the bedroom as Roy pulled the door shut.

Roy watched the little terrier inspect the bushes he had inspected hundreds of times over. Ed was _his_ , he thought he'd impressed that on the Prince the night of Al's party. Ed would not betray him, Ed loved him. Ed knew Roy loved him, he made sure to show it, hell he even _said_ , and not just during sex. The words hardly ever passed Ed's lips, unless Roy had him heated, off guard, in his arms. He would have to make sure Ed knew it, he would not let that Xingian son of a bitch make Ed think of anyone else. He was Ed's lover... _HE_ was Ed's lover and had been so for years, nothing would pull them apart. He turned abruptly, gave R.D. a yank and heading for the house and the little terrier trotted desperately to keep up with the General's long strides. In the house, Roy turned him loose and headed for the bedroom, not even bothering to take off his coat. When R.D. tried to run in with him, he shoved the little dog out with his foot and shut the door.

“What are you doing?” Ed asked, stripped to his boxers and standing by the dresser to get out his pajamas. “R.D. will just start whining if you leave him in the hall.”

It only took five strides to cross to Ed and he grabbed him by the shoulders and crushed his mouth over Ed's startled exclamation. When Ed put his hands against Roy's chest, the General just pulled on his shoulders harder.

 _You are MINE._

“Roy... what the hell...” Ed managed to gasp, tearing his mouth away, but then Roy was turning him, forcing him back. Ed's knees struck the side of the mattress and he sat hard as Roy leaned into him. Ed turned his face away, so Roy took the side of his jaw. He reached up and grabbed his shoulder again, pushing him back. Ed made a sound of protest, but Roy knew where he liked to be touched, how he liked to be stroked. Roy's fingers skated down his body and under the waistband of his boxers.

  
“What's gotten into you?” Ed asked, breathless as Roy pulled his boxers down to his knees. “Damn it,” Ed tried to twist but the General caught his hip, pushed it down again and held him flat. What the hell was going on? Roy's mouth sought him then, no preamble, no teasing lips trailing down his stomach. Just Ed's cock suddenly in his mouth and Ed wanted to protest, he wanted to push him off, but it felt so damn good.

Roy wasn't messing around, the suction was hard and he was taking Ed deep with almost every push and pull. The hand not holding Ed's hip moved up between Ed's legs, palming and stroking his balls. Ed arched his head back, gripped the comforter beneath him and willed all thought to be suspended. Yes, just _feel_ , don't think. Those words, that the man in the hall outside the bathroom said, he should give the benefit of the doubt. _The benefit of the doubt!_ It didn't take long, Roy's intensity won out over Ed's earlier resistance and Ed cried out loudly as he came hard. Roy took it, working him until Ed's spasms subsided and the sensation was becoming a bit too much. Roy released him then, looking down at him with something Ed couldn't place, but it made Ed's stomach knot and he felt hot and cold all at once. Then the General moved again and Ed gave a startled cry as he was flipped onto his stomach. He scrabbled at the comforter as Roy yanked his boxers the rest of the way off, got between his legs and pressed them wide. Ed could hear the sound of fabric and he turned his head to see Roy digging in the pocket of his coat. He still had on his coat! Ed made a grab for the other side of the bed, but Roy grabbed the back of his thighs and held him in place.

“Roy, have you lost your fucking mind?” Ed finally screamed. “What the fuck is going on? What if I say no, you bastard. Planning on fucking raping me?”

Everything in the room went still and suddenly Ed was free. He rolled onto his back, pushed himself up onto his elbows and took in the stricken face of his lover, who closed his eye slowly and lifting a hand to the side of his face.

“You shitwit,” Ed said, even as he felt his anger fleeing. “What is going on in that perverted brain of yours? Fuck.” Ed pushed himself into a sitting position.

“I'm sorry,” Roy suddenly said, hoarsely. “You know I'd never hurt you... I'm just... I'm sorry.” The General turned away, started to move around the bed.

“You didn't hurt me, asshole,” Ed screeched, going to his hands and knees and crawling to the end of the bed to grab Roy by the sleeve of his coat. “Just you're coming on like a mad man and I don't know what the hell is wrong, at least talk to me, damn it. Give me something!” Even as he said it, he knew himself for a hypocrite and Roy's jaw tightened.

“Don't say it,” Ed cut him off as Roy opened his mouth. “Don't say it, I know,” Ed gave a hard tug on Roy's sleeve and the older man let himself be pulled closer. “We're both fucking idiots,” Ed went up on his knees, pushed at Roy's shoulder to turn him and the General faced him.

“We are both too used to secrets,” Ed said. “Hazard of the profession, the only problem is you're in and I'm _out_ ,” Ed pushed the General's coat off his shoulders, watched it rustle down his arms and drop off the end of his hands to pool on the floor. “If you want to fuck me, at least get naked,” Ed said. Roy's eye caught his and he reached up slowly, smoothing his fingers over the side of Ed's face.

“I love you,” Roy said in a strange way. “You are... I've never thought of you not being here, even when you weren't, you were with me.”

“I'm not going anywhere,” Ed said. “We're in this together. I don't know what's gotten you this upset, but we're in this together.”

 _Tell me you love me._

Roy put his hands on Ed's bare shoulders, ran them down his arms, one warm, one cold. Ed let him do it, then shrugged his hands off, reaching up and going for the fasteners of the General's uniform jacket, but Roy caught his hands, lifted them and kissed them, one and then the other.

 _Tell me you love me._

Ed sat back on his heels and Roy released his hands, going for his buttons himself. It only took a few moments to get them undone, then he moved to the side of the bed and removed his boots, stood and was soon naked. Ed moved back then, managed to get the covers down and Roy crossed to turn off the overhead lights. Roy slid into bed and Ed moved to him, against his side and Roy rolled to pin him on his back. He leaned down slowly and Ed opened his mouth. Roy let his tongue move into the invitation.

 _I'm not kissing the Prince as well, am I?_

Gods above, he shouldn't think like that, because even as he admonished himself, he turned the kiss into something else, something possessive. Ed squirmed a bit under him, not expecting the kiss to turn hard. Roy caught Ed's hands and held them over his head, and when Roy pulled back, Ed panted and frowned; Roy could just make it out in the moonlight streaming into the room. It didn't matter, it just didn't matter. Words, he and Ed could fling them endlessly, but Ed understood touch and taste and passion. Roy pressed his knee between Ed's legs and Ed didn't hesitate. He parted them and Roy moved further over him, not releasing his wrists. Then Ed spoke.

“You think... there is something between me and the Prince,” he said lowly, his voice odd. Roy said nothing. He shoved up, releasing Ed's wrists, searching for and finding the lube abandoned earlier on the side of the bed where he'd tossed it from his coat pocket.

 _Tell me you love me._

There was no resistance at all. Roy introduced slick fingers and Ed took deep breaths. It was really just a bit of foreplay formality nowadays, they were steady lovers and Edward was no longer as tight as he had been; he was quicker to relax. Roy pressed Ed's knees up, moved forward, reached to line himself up and sank inside. Ed gave a low sound, a moan and turned his head. Roy felt the sheets drag upwards when Ed bunched his fingers into them.

 _No one... no one can have this, can touch you, can taste you, can feel you. You belong to me._

Roy began to thrust, slow and deep, pulling almost all the way out before moving back inside. Ed groaned with it, arched his head back and licked his lips. Ed liked this, he liked this slow and thorough. He tried to deny it, but he could never hide it from Roy. Here is where Roy got the best responses, the loudest moans and the sweat and sobs.

 _No one else can give you this, no one knows you like I do._

Ed arched his back and ground the top of his head into the pillow. The look on his face was beautiful agony as Roy stroked his insides.

“He didn't touch you, did he?” the General's voice suddenly said in the darkness.

Ed gave a harsh, mirthless laugh and pressed himself into Roy's next thrust.

“No, you bastard, he didn't touch me,” Ed hissed. “So that is what this is all about, some fucking barbaric need to make your claim? Go ahead, fucking bite me, mark me, show the goddamn world I'm _yours_. What does it fucking matter, it's not like you trust me.”

“No,” Roy's voice broke in the darkness, “I trust you, I trust you,” he gasped.

“Really, do you really?” Ed asked, not letting up. Roy's cock was so deep, it was so hard and hot and so good, it was like it was touching his soul.

“Yes,” Roy said. “I love you,” he gasped, his pace beginning to give way into something faster.

Ed thrust up to meet the quickening thrusts. He gritted his teeth and wrapped his legs around Roy's hips.

“Harder,” he demanded between pants. “Faster, goddamn Roy, fuck me _hard_ , show me you OWN me, isn't that what you want?”

“No,” Roy's voice was strained, but he complied, his strokes becoming faster and rougher. With Ed's knees locked around his waist, he could only lean with his own hands on the bed to either side of Ed's hips. “No Ed,” Roy sobbed, “it's not like that...”

“I thought we were equals,” Ed practically howled, “I thought all that fucking manipulation and control was left behind,” Ed cried. “We're not fucking equals; you still want the upper hand, with me... with your own goddamn lover!”

“That's a lie,” Roy cried. “It's a lie!”

“Tell me, you fucker, are you going to be Prime Minister?,” Ed screamed, his stomach clenching, his head pounding. “Tell me the TRUTH!”

All Roy gave him was a ragged sob, his hips thrusting frantically.

“I fucking hate you,” Ed screamed as he came.


	13. Chapter 13

_Snap._

Ran Fan glanced up from her position on her knees. The Prince was tapping the end of his ivory handled fan idly against his shoulder now, instead of incessantly snapping it open and closed.

They'd returned to the ambassador’s residence only a little while ago and the Prince had immediately began to pace the house, pausing only long enough to gather his fan up where he'd left it lying on the entrance table in the foyer. He usually only maintained the accoutrements of royalty when he had too, but in the case of the fan... it was a way for him to mull over problems and contemplate objectives.

“The Professor seemed upset,” he said to Ran Fan needlessly, “Did you happen to overhead anything?”

“No, highness,” the woman said softly. “I was observing you as always.”

“Pity,” the Prince said, moving the end of the fan to his lips and bowing his head as if to rest it there. “Perhaps Fuu...?”

“I doubt it highness, he was outside the residence on sentry duty,” Ran Fan said.

“Ears open, Ran Fan,” the Prince said, turning to leave the room. “There are things going on now that might jeopardize our interests here,” he paused to look over his shoulder at her in the doorway, “The Emperor isn't going to all this trouble only to have things fall apart in such a manner.”

Ran Fan regarded him steadily and silently, and the Prince sighed.

“I know what you're thinking,” he said. “Perhaps it is a bit of self interest as well, we both know how I am with temptation.” He allowed a slight smile and she bowed her head a bit. It was ever the joke between them.

The Prince retired for the night, hoping his demons and thoughts of a red stone retired with him.

***

Al grunted in frustration as he got to the last page of his current journal because he hadn't thought to bring another. He remembered the five he'd received amongst his birthday gifts, sitting in a drawer of his dresser at his home in Central. He glanced back through the book. It was adorned mostly with his lab notes, a comment or two Pharr made that Al had found funny and a description of the Colonel at her desk one morning. Tradition dictated he hand over a goodly amount of his journals to the state, but this one he would be keeping. He let his finger trace over the lines.

 _The sunlight filters in behind her, outlining her in a glow. Her head is bent forward, she is never aware of how she is cast upon others..._

Al sighed and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Was he really just fooling himself? She would smile at him, she did it more these days than she did in his youth. Was he letting himself read too much into that? She'd squeezed his fingers while they danced, her hip has brushed his, she'd let him lead _(as much as his fumbling could be called leading)_.

He continued with his writing onto the back cover of the journal _(he often did, he wasn't one to tolerate blank space when ideas were creeping out his ears)_ , then shut it and dropped it onto the seat beside him as the train rocked him soothingly in its back and forth gait. The train was a well trusted guardian of his thoughts and hopes and dreams. Many of them he shared with his elder brother, who was napping more often than not, on the seat across from him. There were times when he missed Ed's presence very acutely. Mostly it was when he had the need to unburden himself of a thought or ask futile questions about things Ed was set upon and would not be deterred.

In a way, the red stone was a blessing as well as a curse. It had brought him years of his brother and his brother's regard. It had also brought him is brother's guilt and sorrow: things Al could have done without. In some ways, he was grateful to his armored form; it let him protect his brother and it gave him time to himself to think in the dark hours of pre-dawn. For a little while, it was like home. If things had played out differently, he even thought he could accept it. Being a scholar wasn't an ignoble thing, it was an honored position. Though he doubted he could have ever made a lecture circuit or sat on the board of a college while being animated steel.

His thoughts strayed back to his Colonel. The darkness outside the window of the train told him she would be home now. Maybe her hair would be down and she would be dressed casual and soft, the uniform _(her barrier)_ would be hanging in the closet, awaiting its next call to duty. Hayate would be lying by her feet and she would be reading or looking over some report she hadn't managed to get to in her work day. Maybe she had gone out to the store or to eat in a cafe for dinner. He didn't know, but he wanted to.

He wanted to be the one to take Hayate out before bed, he wanted to share in the cooking and the wine selection, he wanted to read passages aloud while she sat with her chin resting in her palm and her elbow on the arm of the couch. He wanted to compliment her on the way her hair swung about her shoulders, and tease her for her fuzzy slippers.

 _  
I am doomed to want and want and want; it’s all I've ever known. I wanted my mother, I wanted my body, I want Ed's arm and leg and I want the Colonel. I am defined by what I want. Is that the proof of my existence then? This is Alphonse Elric, he wanted. Is it so bad? It's motivation to move forward, it's drive and hunger. All this wanting, when will I be satisfied? When will I know true peace?_

Ed has found peace, peace to the point he didn't even want to discuss the automail anymore, but that did not relieve Al of his obligation. Ed could go hang; if Al wanted the obligation, there was little Ed could do about it. He had not mentioned that the experiment he was rushing back to oversee had to do with flesh and the regeneration of it, or that the precious tissue samples he was using were harvested from a frozen and sleeping monster. There was no doubt in Al's mind that if the thing were to be uncrated and allowed to thaw, it would reform. If that flesh could be molded and shaped, why could it not be taught to shape in a way Al wanted it to? This pharmacy the Prince spoke of could provide a key to the question of rejection that haunted Al's mind. If he could make Ed an arm and attach it, perhaps pharmacy could let him keep it. He worried his bottom lip a bit.

The rocking of the train soon carried his journal up against the side of his thigh and he laid his hand on top of it.

He was going to have to speak to this Prince... no matter what Ed did to try and stop him.

***

“You haven't come,” said the man beneath him. He tightened his legs and bared his teeth, grinding the heels of his hands into the mattress and bucking against the General, still inside him. “Cum, damn you,” the man snarled. The General tried to pull back, but he was locked in place by strength and anger.

“Ed,” Roy said, his voice strained in the darkness, “I was going to tell you...”

“When?” Ed challenged. “At the fucking inauguration?”

“There are circumstances,” Roy said, “Things you might be better off not knowing at the moment,” he tried to explain.

“FUCK YOU,” Ed screamed. He shoved up with his hands then, threw his flesh arm around Roy's neck and held himself in a sitting position. Roy made a sound of protest, not only for the suddenly awkward and uncomfortable position, but because the angle inside Ed now may hurt, and he would never hurt Ed. Roy was forced to run his hands under Ed's ass and move his lover higher into his lap, struggling to right this wrong. Ed didn't resist, he moved as Roy directed; the compliance was both unexpected and alarming. Soon, Roy was seated with Ed straddling his hips. Roy wanted to pull free, but Ed ground down on him and Roy moaned a bit involuntarily.

“Yes,” Ed said. “It's still good, isn't it? You need to cum, Roy.” Ed began to move then, lifting and lowering himself with his inner thighs pressed to the outside of Roy's.

“This is wrong,” Roy gasped, weakening even as he protested. “You're making this something it shouldn't be... Ed, I didn't do this to hurt you...” he tried.

“I'm making it exactly what it is,” Ed said. “I'm paying for my job, my home, my existence. Isn't that what you want? Haven't you made me your whore?”

“No,” Roy half screamed. He began to struggle then, grabbing at Ed's shoulders and shoving him back.

Ed's face contorted with things Roy could only imagine. When Ed fell back, Roy was able to pull free. He pushed Ed's leg to the side and swung his own legs over the side of the bed, putting his feet on the floor, panting. Ed lay behind him, unmoving, staring at the ceiling.

Roy reached up, ran his hands down his face and half turned to look at Ed, but Ed didn't look back.

“Don't ever say anything like that again,” Roy said. “How could you even think...”

“Aren't whores kept? Aren't they around when you feel the need to fuck something, but not the need to share anything with them?” Ed gave another laugh that had nothing to do with humor.

Roy turned then, more to face him. It wasn't like this, Ed didn't mean these things, he didn't mean the words he'd screamed when Roy had been inside him.

“Ed, listen to me. You yourself said you were on the _out_ ,” Roy reasoned. “I didn't see the need to burden you with anything that wasn't happening at the time. There _has_ been talk about the Prime Ministry, but until lately, that is all it has been... just _talk_. Tell me what you heard,” Roy said.

“I heard,” Ed said, sitting up slowly, “that I was a liability. I heard that you made me legit by _creating_ me a position in the academy,” Ed lifted his eyes to Roy, then his own insides twisted with what he saw there. It was true; it was just like Stanton said. “I see it's all true.”

“I did what I thought would be best,” Roy said quietly.

“It must have been more than just _talk_ for a while General,” Ed said sweetly. “For you to go to all this trouble. I wonder why you would need a Xingian Prince? What could possibly be in it for the Xingian's if you _weren't_ Prime Minister? It seems to me there are a lot of people who know about this, other than _me_. Hell, even the rulers of another country think enough of it to try and horn in on your action. You must have a fucking decent chance at this,” Ed got his knees under him and pushed his hair back, “I didn't even fucking factor _in_! You like me on the _out_ , don't you asshole?! I'm nice and tractable that way, because I fucking trust you! Because I fucking love you!”

“I do love you,” Roy said softly, “I do trust you. Ed, please, it's not like you're making it out.”

“The FUCK it isn't!” Ed shouted. “It's exactly like I'm making it out! You're not even trying to contradict me! You set me up with a respectable job, you sweet talked me into all this _discretion_... I love you and I'm not supposed to tell anyone! How long has this gone on? You know, since I was fifteen I think,” Ed hugged his elbows, “You always managed to get me to do _exactly_ what you wanted me to do. All this time, and I thought... I thought I _wanted_ this.”

Roy's heart shuddered to a stop for what seemed an eternity. He reached then, one hand toward Ed, but there was a dull flash in the moonlight across the bed and then pain. Ed had swatted his hand aside with the automail.

“I bet you wet your pants with joy when the Prince seemed to like me,” Ed sneered, “only it appears he likes me better than you want. I guess another one of your ‘Ingratiate Ed to the Political Scene’ plans has backfired. You're so busy procuring my friends for me, you didn't stop to think about the consequences. I suppose I thought I was only desirable to you.”

“Procuring your friends?” Roy asked bewildered, holding his aching hand.

“You have an excellent way of keeping me under your thumb,” Ed said. “Twenty-six thirteen-year-olds, that is what you have given me. I give you credit, because I would never have thought I'd get _attached_. You told me they were rubbing off on me, was that your hope all along? It that what you thought would save you when you finally decided to spring this on me? Most of them are the children of your friends, aren't they? The ones you cluster around with at any gathering,” Ed took several deep breaths, “Oh, but your coup de grace is how you got Al to hide things from me, my own _brother_.”

“Now you are grasping,” Roy said. “Al has no part of this!”

“But he knew,” Ed half screeched. “He wanted to tell me and he wouldn’t, you told him not to tell me!”

“I would do no such thing,” Roy returned, voice rising. “I would never come between you and your brother like that! I would never do anything to jeopardize our relationship like that!”

“Whose relationship?” Ed demanded. “Mine and yours or yours and Al's? Because I can tell you now, you've already done a number on OUR relationship!”

“If you really think me capable of such damning duplicity, then why are you still sitting here?” Roy said. “Why suffer my presence if I am such a loathsome creature as you would like to make me be? What has made you stay?”

“I LOVE YOU,” Ed screamed. “I was working under some paranoid delusion you loved me in return! But I was wrong, wasn't I? Or is it just you love me when you can keep me in line? How can you do this to me? Fucking hell Roy, how can you do this to _me_? You tell me you love me, you tell me you trust me and yet you give me nothing! You set me up so those pompous assholes you call peers can look down their noses at me and laugh! The General's pet! Everyone knows the General's agenda except _you_!” Ed roared.

“Has it ever occurred to you I'm trying to protect you?” Roy returned. “I'm trying to keep you safe from what could be said in public! Those people mean nothing, what they think is nothing! I DO trust you! I trust you with my very _life_! I don't want to see you hurt! I gave you that position at the academy, I admit it! I did it because it was something you were _worthy_ of, you would excel at! YES, I fucking KNOW you Ed! I have lived a good portion of my life working to make your life better, because fate sure handed you a shitty deal in the beginning!”

“You are NOT turning this around on me! You want to show me you trust me?” Ed said and surged forward on his knees. “Then give me THIS!”

Roy saw the hand coming and tried to react, but Ed was fast, always so damn fast. The strap pulled his hair and bent his head forward painfully as Roy howled denial, making a wild desperate grab for an automail wrist as his eye patch ripped free and left him naked, vulnerable and ugly.

***

“Give that to me!” the General roared and lunged at him. Ed half twisted, but Roy's larger frame hit him and they went over the opposite side of the bed. Roy landed on top of him and Ed felt the breath leave his lungs, but he planted his automail foot on the floor and used its leverage to heave upwards, slamming Roy in the side with his left hand and causing the General to roll off him onto the hardwood floor. He wasted no time regaining his feet, diving back across the bed and going for the light switch. He squinted as the overhead came on, turning in time to see Roy, who had pulled up on the side of the bed as if to chase him, suddenly sink back down, dropping his head below the mattress.

Ed looked at the black oval in his hand and flipped it over. It's was still tied in the back and it didn't seem like much. Some of Roy's black hair was snagged in the knot and he switched it to his flesh hand; it almost felt warm.

“Damn you, give it back,” Roy said from his hiding place on the other side of the bed.

“Why?” Ed said. “Is it magic? Does it make all the bad things go away? Do you think it makes you invulnerable?” Ed began to walk around the bed, slow and deliberate, letting his automail strike the floor harder than necessary. He wanted him to know he was coming, wanted him to feel helpless and angry, knowing there was nothing he could do, that the person he trusted had betrayed him. He wanted the General to feel everything he felt, the things that strangled him and damned him and turned his insides to ice. It had been a long time since he'd felt that cold; he was fool enough to believe he would never feel it again, but things never change, do they? Even when you think you are in a safe place. People can change, it is true, but never as you think they will. Never as completely as you hope they will.

He stopped when he reached the side of the bed. The General sat on his knees, shoulders hunched, his left hand covering the ruined side of his face. His mouth pulled down at the site of Ed and his black eye darted to the side as he bowed his head. Despite himself, despite it all... Ed's stomach turned. Not in anger, but in sorrow at the sight of his lover huddled on the floor looking ashamed.

 _This is wrong... this is no better than what he has done..._

Ed swallowed. This man his _hurt_ him, _lied_ to him. He has made him little more than a tamed dog in the eyes of the General's peers. He has _humiliated_ him.

 _Now I am paying him back in kind; it doesn't feel good, or right. It just feels wrong and sad._

He deserves this. For everything he has done, he deserves this. The General needs to see what it feels like to be used. The General needs a taste of manipulation and control from someone who _loves_ him.

“I think I might leave the academy,” Ed said lowly, still holding the patch between his flesh fingers.

“No Ed, god, please, not because of me,” Roy said raggedly. “You love that job, those kids... they love you. I was at the party, I saw them... I saw you with them. Please Ed, not because of me.”

 _This is... foul. I can't... I can't leave... my kids... why am I saying this?_

“I know you want to hurt me,” Roy said, “but please don't make it any worse than that. Do what you have to, but don't take it out on yourself. Ed, I swear to god, I never meant to hurt you. You're right; I should have told you from the beginning. Please believe me when I tell you I told Al _nothing_ ; whatever he knows, he found out himself. Don't do this, Ed. Don't pull yourself to pieces to punish me, I beg you.”

 _I love him. People who love each other don't do these things. They trust each other, they tell each other things. In a way, maybe this is something I have shown him was alright. I have to show him it's not alright. I have to do something,_

Ed slowly dropped to his knees in front of the General. For a long time, neither of them spoke or moved, then Ed reached up and caught the wrist of the hand Roy had pressed hard to his face. Roy made a low sound when Ed tried to pull it away, resisting.

“Let me see,” Ed said evenly. “Let me see, Roy.”

“No,” Roy said faintly. “I don't want you to see. It's ugly.”

“You don't have to protect me all the time,” Ed said. “You can let me stand on my own, make my own judgments. I think I understand a little why you did what you did. I don't like it, it hurts like hell, but maybe I understand.”

Ed tugged again and slowly, Roy let his hand be pulled away. He didn't look up at Ed; he kept his eye trained on the floor between them. Ed held his wrist and leaned forward slightly.

“Look at me,” Ed said.

“I don't want to,” Roy said and shifted uncomfortably on the cold, hard floor.

“Why?” Ed prodded.

“Because it's not there,” Roy said. “It's gone. I know it's gone, you know it's gone, why do you want to see it?”

 _You've never really accepted this, have you? Or is it some sort of reminder to you? Was it that terrifying? I suppose it must have been._

“Roy, trust me,” Ed said quietly. He then waited, still holding Roy's wrist. Eventually, the General lifted his head slowly and brought his black eye up to meet gold ones.

It wasn't so bad. Where the eye had been, was covered over and almost smooth and shiny. There were puckered scars about it, and his cheek was pitted and off color from thick scar tissue. Most of his eyebrow was gone with a jagged, white scar marring it, making it impossible for the hair to grow back in, but Ed had seen worse, he had lived worse. He resisted the urge to reach up and touch is own automail shoulder.

***

The General felt confused as Ed tugged on his wrist to pull him forward, but he leaned as Ed wanted. The General felt more confusion and then a stinging in his remaining eye as the man he loved, he'd wronged, he'd hurt... kissed him where his left eye had once been.

“I don't understand,” Roy said, fighting the shake in his voice, in his soul. “Are you forgiving me?”

“I don't know,” Ed said. “I'm trying to understand, because I owe you at least that much. I am not exactly sinless in this myself; there are too many dark places between me and you. We need to fix them and then go from there.”

“How do you propose we fix things,” Roy said. “Are you talking about making choices? I don't want to make choices, there are no easy answers.”

“When I wanted to give my life for Al's and I stood in the underground city,” Ed said. “A gate opened up before me. It was the end all of being, the supposed fount of truth. It was the place I had gone all those years before, seeking my mother. It was what ripped me to pieces body and soul.” Ed turned Roy's hand, the wrist he still gripped, palm up. He laid the eye patch in it and released Roy's wrist.

Roy closed his fingers over the eye patch and held it, a black eye fixing on Ed's face.

“When it took me, it left me in a place called London,” Ed said. “Hohenhiem was there, but I didn't stay for long. The real story of where I was those six years took place in a country called Germany.”

Roy moved then, getting up on his knees and putting a hand on the bed to push to his feet. He held his hand down to Ed who took it and also climbed to his feet. He stood quietly as the General put his patch back on; he did it with practiced ease having done it for years. The General then looked at Ed.

“Even your flesh hand is cold, let's get you under the blankets,” he reached onto the bed and pulled them back, standing back as Ed climbed in. He walked to his side and got in as well, sliding under the covers and putting his pillow against the headboard. Ed didn't flinch when Roy reached over to pull the blanket up around his shoulders.

“It was cold there, like it is here during the winter and early spring,” Ed said. “It snowed too, just like here.”

“Where was it?” Roy asked. “Was it very far away?”

“It was another world,” Ed said. “Like this one, but not. Everyone was there, but they weren't. It was like living a half life, muted and dull. There was no alchemy, but there was science.”

Roy wanted badly to put his arm around Ed, to pull him against his side and warm him with his body, to hold him while he spoke, but he didn't think he had the right, at least not at the moment.

“I thought science alone might be able to get me home,” Ed said. “In that world, men could fly, they had machines called airplanes and rockets. I thought that somehow I could figure out how to get home if I only studied hard enough and worked hard enough. I could come home to Al and you.”

The instinct to pull Ed close was hard to resist. Twice Roy lifted his hand and twice he dropped it back to the mattress. Ed was hunching in on himself, he drew his knees up and wrapped his arms around them. Roy had seen the posture many times in their past, but he hadn't seen it since Ed's return. Roy didn't want Ed to hug himself, he didn’t want him to be uncertain and wary; yet Roy couldn't put his arms around him. It wasn't supposed to be like this, he was supposed to introduce Ed to the idea of Roy holding the Prime Minister's office gradually. What had been said to Ed at Culpepper's party? Who had said it? Roy's fingers moved restlessly in the blankets and he forced himself to keep his arm down; Ed would not appreciate the gesture at the moment. Then Ed rested his chin on his knees and spoke again.

“When I first got to Germany, I met a man named... Heiderich,” Ed said. “He was studying rockets. He had built engines, he had _plans_.”

***

 _His brother's smile._

It was such a sharp and bittersweet thing, Ed would almost forget to breathe; but this was not Alphonse, this bright and vibrant young man in a world of drab grays and dirt brown. He was a scientist, a rocket scientist, young and full of hopes and dreams. He was sick and desperate; he was Ed's friend, the first he truly obtained in this strange and claustrophobic place. He almost made it feel a bit welcoming, Alfons Heiderich showed him just a bit of home.

They lived together in rented rooms above a flower shop, the landlady also a ghost from Ed's own existence elsewhere. Ed was learning to become immune to these sightings, because no matter how desperately he wanted them to _be_ , they never were. It had been particularly hard when he'd first moved into this portion of this world that was here but not there; the police officer who made this place his regular beat was a striking ghost indeed.

It was hard. Money was tight and what they could scrape together for research was never quite enough. They both took odd jobs as they could and spent many nights huddled together at a table that had been hauled out of a trash bin and repaired with whatever could be found. Alfons was always the optimist, he propelled Ed forward when things got darkest and it was his infectious good nature that was sometimes the only reason Ed got out of bed. Alfons _believed_ him when, in their acquaintance, Ed finally needed to speak of his home.

 _I'll help you,_ Alfons told him, _I'll see you home._

It was at these times, Ed let himself believe it was possible. He would go home. Al would be there of course, fully restored and happy, living with the sunlight on his face and the ability to feel and laugh and hurt and cry. They would be together; they would live without the cloud that hung over them in their youth. They would work together, they would be a family. Winry and Granny would be there as well. Perhaps they'd live again in Risembool, or maybe they'd live in Central. They could split their time between their friends and their family; he wasn't sure what the Colonel would think of this idea, he would need some convincing, but it wouldn't be hard, the Colonel would understand. Al was back, and Ed needed to catch up on all his missed time. The Colonel loved him; he would encourage Ed to be with his brother. Perhaps he and Al could live with the Colonel during their time in Central. They would just convince him to get a bigger apartment.

Al was his favorite dream in the daylight hours. He was the one who made him sit with the books and the papers and the speculation and theory. He had to go home, Al was there waiting for him. He had to go home and start his life again and live the life they were meant to. He worked hard, because he was not afraid of work and his little brother's smile would carry him through the day.

A different memory occupied his nights. A husky voice and warm lips that he would arch his neck to, but they never touched him there, only the memory of them lingered above his skin. There was no smell of hay and there were no warm hands sliding down his sides. His heart and groin would tighten and he'd close his eyes and will sleep, but usually it was to no avail. A man with black eyes and blacker hair looked at him in ways that made him burn and ache, that made him want to laugh and cry. He longed to feel the weight over his back or on his chest, long and strong fingers buried inside him, the calloused palm around him, stroking and pulling. He would shoot many worried glances toward Alfons' half of the room before sliding his flesh hand over his own stomach.

The last time he'd been with his lover, the crickets had sung to them. Roy had made love to him for the first time as it should have been; Roy had loved him with his body and his soul and Ed had finally said what he'd wanted to say, what he’d needed to say. He wanted to tell Roy what was inside of him, Roy deserved to know. He never let himself think of what might have happened when he left him standing there in the road. No, Roy was safe and he was watching over Al and Ed would get back to them. It would be soon, he would go home soon. The fingers of his flesh hand gripped his cock. It wasn't Roy's touch, but he moved them slowly, his ear tuned to the other side of the room where Alfons slept. Roy would be whispering in his ear now, telling him how much he loved him, how much he wanted to please him. Roy always haunted his nights and he found, inside himself, he never really wanted to be free. Even as the ghosts of this place made him turn away, he knew he searched for one face in the crowd. He knew he would give just about anything to see that bastard's smirk directed at him again, to hear the song in the tavern be sung in a different language and speak of blue skies and hearts and clover. He tightened his grip and turned his face into the pillow to mask his breathing. Roy was moving over him, between his legs and filling him, burning him and stretching him and making him alive.

He squeezed his eyes shut tight, feeling an unwelcome wetness there. The Colonel was rumbling deep in his chest and Ed crammed the cold fingers of his prosthetic hand into his mouth, his flesh hand moving faster and faster. Damn the bastard for making him want this, for awakening him and showing him that love was more than what he'd thought it could be. Damn him, love him, want him, need him... Ed bit down savagely on his fake fingers and came over his flesh hand.

Al was his days and Roy was his nights. That's just the way it was going to be.

***

Time passed, more than Ed would have liked; it was already three years since he'd fallen to this place. He didn't want to acclimate, he didn't want to _accept_. Alfons did what he could, always trying to bolster his friend’s spirits, but time was also passing for him as well. He didn't go out as much anymore, he tried to hide the crumpled tissues and handkerchiefs; sometimes, instead of trying to speak, he would just smile.

Guilt would claw at Ed, tear at him. He couldn't let Alfons see him worn down and discouraged. Half the time, he found himself buried in medical texts, but there was nothing they hadn't already heard and no real money for a doctor. He decided then to write Hohenhiem, but never received a reply back; he couldn't say he was surprised. The third year came to a close and he was as he had been the years before, here and not there, trapped and not home.

***

The night he came home late from one of the many odd jobs he wandered through was the beginning of the end again. Alfons was on the floor and Ed managed to get him into his bed. The landlady came at his summons, a few friends, but little could be done. So, he waited, sitting there beside the bed, feeling somehow he'd wronged this man who was his friend. Once again, he could not save him. He set his jaw hard; he would not wonder if he had managed to save Al at all. Alfons moved the fingers of his hand closest to Ed on the bed weakly, and Ed moved his flesh hand to lay it over them. Alfons smiled at him, sallow and bloodless except for the flecks on his lips.

“Sorry, Ed. Home...” he said. Ed shook his head and tightened his hold over Alfons' fingers.

“Home,” Alfons said again. He was unable to do more than that, and the smile faded off his lips. His eyes tailed down to where Ed's hand lay over the back of his.

“I will get home,” Ed said. “Don't worry about me.”

It was the next day that the fingers of Alfons’ hand had grown as cold as the fingers of Ed's prosthetics. When his family came to collect the body, Ed almost wept with relief that there wasn't a familiar face among them.

He could not afford to travel to the funeral in their far off home village and it was only a little while after, that his hopes of getting home went to the grave with Alfons.

***

 _At least in my devastation I wasn't alone._

Roy had remained very silent while Ed had related in halting words the death of his friend and the despair at his situation. Ed had stopped now, forehead pressed to his raised knees, and again the need to touch him, hold him and comfort him, raised Roy's hand. He didn't stop himself this time; he laid his hand on Ed's blanket-covered back and moved it in a slow circle. Ed made no move to shrug him off, so Roy shifted closer, running the hand over Ed's side, hooking his arm around him and pulling him toward his chest.

“How pathetic am I?” Ed asked him as he let himself be pulled. “My tormentor is also my comforter? How fucking pitiful is it that I have no where else to turn? I should fucking hate you,” the blonde in Roy's arms took a deep breath.

Roy shifted. He wanted to hold Ed very close and managed, with some maneuvering, to get Ed over his leg and in between them. He tucked Ed under his chin and wrapped his arms around him; Ed didn't resist, only grunted and shifted himself, pressing against the offered chest.

“You're a bastard,” Ed said without much conviction.

“I know,” Roy said softly into blonde hair. “I went about this the wrong way. I know, Ed.”

“You haven't even fucking apologized,” Ed said. “Which means you're going to do what you want no matter what I say, isn't that it?”

“I would like your support,” Roy said then against his hair.

“But you don't need my approval,” Ed returned.

“I think it's right,” Roy said. “I think I have something to offer.”

“It feels wrong to be mad at you for being you,” Ed said. “But I think I can make an exception.”

“I wish you wouldn't,” Roy said, rubbing Ed's shoulders and arms. “I'm sorry about your friend in Germany.”

“Quit trying to distract me,” Ed said tiredly. “After Heiderich died, I didn't think I'd ever see you again. I thought that was it for me, the price for all my sins, a hell of my own making.”

Roy tightened his hug again.

***

He decided to leave Munich. The jobs were scarce, the memories were bad. He thought of heading north toward Berlin, but instead was sidetracked to the east and the University of Frankfurt. His prosthetic limbs served him well, but manual labor was questionable. He hoped that somehow he might be able to talk himself into a job that required his mind over his muscle; even a research position would be welcome, but he only managed to get as far as Stuttgart before his meager resources dwindled into nothing. The benches of the small park there might have been inviting if not for the police officer who warned him off with a look. With the last bit of change in his pocket, he decided to have one last pint before he was set off to starve in the streets. He found himself on a bench outside a faded beergarten, with his suitcase and resignation to keep him company.

A truck pulled up and several men clambered out of the back, giving Ed the same passing glances he gave them. Some of them looked like gypsies and the others merely like laborers. The exception of course got out of the cab of the truck; he was an older gentleman, dressed to suit the role. He gave Ed more than a passing glance as he made his way into the pub, and when he returned outside, stein in hand, it was not his men he sat with. Instead, he presented himself opposite Ed, who looked up from his seat on the bench.

“Guten abend, Herr,” Ed said politely and left it at that, not sure what the man wanted or why he felt the need to bother him as he tried to drown himself in one last beer.

“I'm impressed with your German,” the man said, taking a seat beside Ed. “I can tell you aren't really from these parts,” like many good Germans, the man then had to drain half his stein before he continued.

“You're right,” Ed said. “I'm not from around here.” Ed didn’t know why he felt in the mood to converse with this man. Ah yes, it must be the resignation. He must be having one last conversation before the end, to find some sort of enlightenment. That would make his demise poetic, not that anyone who might care would ever know it.

“You have the look of a learned man,” the man said, licking beer from his lip and then wiping it for good measure on his sleeve. “How are you for numbers?”

“If you mean making book,” Ed said, “your wires are crossed. I may be dressed at the moment, but my pocket is as empty as my stein,” Ed sighed into it, looking glumly at the bottom of the heavy, glass mug.

“That's interesting,” the man said. “You've no resources and I've need of a bookkeeper. Somehow it seems god has pushed us together.”

Ed turned to look at him and survey him frankly. Just then, the girl who had been manning the counter inside the bar came out, tray at her side, carrying a few more steins. She made her way among the men at the tables, but the man sitting next to Ed raised his hand and she hurried over. He turned and took Ed's empty stein sat it on her tray along with his own, then took two filled ones in their place. The man turned and handed one to Ed, then tossed several coins onto the tray and the girl hurried away.

“You're very kind, Herr...?” Ed said, already bringing the stein to his lips.

“Gerhardt,” the man said, eyeing his own mug. “I run a construction company; we're on our way to the site. I'm thinking of opening an office here, but I need someone to handle the more paper-oriented details. My niece Greta will be joining me here within the next week.”

“I'm Edward Elric,” Ed returned. “Your offer is most gracious, but we are complete strangers. How do you know you can trust me? I've just admitted to you that I am penniless and you can see by my bag I've nowhere to stay. You want to trust me with your bookkeeping? That would put me in charge of your money. I think mein Herr is being impulsive and reckless, if he wants my opinion.”

“I am never one to argue with God,” Herr Gerhardt said. “He put you here on this bench for me to see, he had his reasons. Besides, I have studied you while we spoke; you seem like a person who is trustworthy.”

Ed blinked at the man and in his mind’s eye, his brother smiled.

“I'm humbled, Herr. I truly don't know what to say. I would be grateful to have a job,” Ed said. “It seems coming all this way was not a waste.”

“It's settled then. Tomorrow, after I deliver this lot to my foreman at the site, we'll come back into town and look for a place to set up shop,” Herr Gerhardt said. “We'll find you a room for the night and I'll just deduct it from your first week’s wages. Now, I'm starved, will you join me for dinner?”

Ed struggled hard that night to hold onto his firm belief that there were no such things as angels.

 

**

 

The fourth year came to a close. It found Edward Elric in charge of the Stuttgart office of Gerhardt and Co. Construction. He lived in a back room of the very office, it was cozy and snug and cheap. It had a bed, sink and stove, and he could use the bathroom in the office proper. Edward was also in charge of keeping track of Herr Gerhardt's niece, Greta, but she was no trouble and often good company to have about. She would bring him cookies, make him tea and sit to tell him about news from the outside. She did filing when directed, answered the phone and occasionally ran errands. He found out from her that Herr Gerhardt had been caring for her ever since she lost her one remaining parent, _(Herr Gerhardt's brother)_ , in the war that had taken place a few years before Edward had landed here.

Sometimes, when Herr Gerhardt and Greta would invite Edward to join them for dinner, Edward got the distinct feeling that a bookkeeper might not be the only thing Herr Gerhardt was looking for, the way the older man's eyes would travel from Greta to Ed. The way he always encouraged her to sit beside Ed in the restaurant, the way he had her hang about the office… Ed mulled this over. If he were well and truly going to live the rest of his life here, then it might not be so bad. Greta was a lively girl, friendly and intelligent. She didn't strike him with wrenches; in fact, she never went near any machinery for fear of 'oil' and her dress. She didn't seem to be repulsed by his artificial limbs and often time, she grabbed his fake arm or touched his fake hand, never flinching at the contact.

Ed could almost imagine his life with her and with Herr Gerhardt. It would be much like it was now, only he wouldn't sleep alone. Maybe, just maybe, he could be happy.

With these things in mind, one night he asked Greta to dinner _alone_. She seemed surprised and happily accepted. Later, when he returned her to her Uncle's residence, he'd kissed her; nothing spectacular, just soft and gentle on her lips, but she kissed back as well and reached up to touch his blonde bangs, smiling. She then said a soft goodnight and let herself in the door.

It wouldn't be so bad. He could _learn_ to be happy. He let himself think about Al and Roy then; Al would tell him to be happy, that he deserved it. Al would tell him that if this is what he wanted, _(even if it wasn't, but only what he could have here)_ , then he should take it.

Roy might be jealous.

***

Ed shifted in Roy's hug again, noting with some satisfaction that it had tightened considerably as Ed told him of Greta.

 _How fucking messed up is this? I get pissed off that he's jealous of the Prince, but I want him to be jealous of Greta? It's not like he'd ever get to opportunity to even meet her! What the fuck do I want here? Do I want him to be pissy or not?_

“You stupid bastard,” Ed said. “Jealous of some fucking girl you'll never even meet.”

 _I don't know what I want,_ Ed thought.

“I'm not jealous,” Roy defended. “I'm glad you didn't give up completely, that you looked for happiness. Al is right, you deserve happiness.”

“You think so?” Ed said. “Why are you going out of your way to wreck it then? Oh wait, we're talking about what Al thinks I should have.”

Roy only sighed deeply and rested his cheek on the top of Ed's head. The bastard had no right to try and make Ed feel guilty about feeling vindictive.

“Ed,” Roy said, “you don't think so low of me that you think I'd want you to be unhappy and lonely because I wasn't there,” Roy started to rub his hand up and down one of Ed's arms through the blanket. “Surely after all this time, all we've done together, all we've been through together, you wouldn't really think that.”

“Stop fucking telling me what I think,” Ed said. “You just don't learn, do you? Damn Roy, you just can't give it up, can you? This need to live my life for me. You know, Al accused me of the same thing, I'm starting to see what he was talking about.”

“I don't mean it like that,” Roy said. “It's just hard to let go sometimes. I've been watching after you for a long time, Ed.”

“Molding me into what you want me to be,” Ed said lowly. “When you kissed me in your kitchen all those years ago, is that what you though it would turn out like?”

“Ed,” Roy said and nothing else, his hold tightened again.

 _Am I being unfair? No I don't think so. Was I just part and parcel of the whole Roy Mustang plan? Was it planned, was it spur of the moment that he worked into the grand scheme? I hate this, I HATE THIS! I... I almost wish I'd never found out. So I want to live in the dark of the world he's made for me, is that it?_

Ed suddenly tilted his face up and Roy responded immediately with gentle lips on his forehead, his brow and a low, rumbling sound.

 _Am I doing this because I want to?_

***

“Onkle Odo,” Greta said, _(for she never called Herr Gerhardt by his last name, being the family she was)_ , “says the American architect will be stopping by today.”

“Hmmm?” Ed glanced up from his ledger and raised his eyebrow. “American architect? I didn't know he'd engaged one. Someone I'll have to put on the payroll, I'm sure.”

“That is why he is coming by,” Greta informed him. “Are you sure Onkle didn't mention him? He's been very busy lately at the site, so perhaps it slipped his mind,” Greta leaned on Ed's desk and he glanced up again, smiling when she did. “You're always so busy yourself, Edward,” she told him. “He probably told you and you just forgot.”

“Seems odd, an American here,” Edward said. “Is he a student of architecture then and traveling abroad for education? Your Onkle is always looking to cut corners. He is also good about taking in strays,” Ed said and winked.

“Onkle is very kind hearted,” Greta said. “Sometimes it works to his advantage,” she winked. “I'll go set the kettle on in your room. That way, when the American comes, we can all have tea.”

Ed watched her walk around his desk, heading for the back.

“You know,” he called after her, “it's this fascination with Britain that makes you feed me tea all the time, when I'd just as soon have coffee.”

“Tea is good for you,” she countered as she disappeared into the back, “coffee just makes you tense.”

Maybe that is why the bastard would spend days on edge. Ed shook his head and dropped his eyes back to his ledger. The pot had no soon begun to sing when the front door bell chimed and Ed could hear someone step into the small entry way.

“Greta,” Ed called over his shoulder. “There's a visitor.” He smiled and watched the young woman hurry out of his room, grinning at him as she dashed by to meet their guest. He heard them exchange pleasantries and could immediately pick out, by the accent, that the American had arrived.

“Come in and meet Edward,” he heard Greta say as she appeared in the doorway of the main room. Ed lifted his head and laid down his pen. Because he never wanted to leave a bad impression on any of Herr Gerhardt's guests, he always schooled and restrained himself in their presence. Greta smiled at him as she walked into the room and Ed stood as another figure appeared in the doorway. When his black eyes lifted to Ed's, Ed felt the air in his lungs congeal and he put his hands on his desk to steady himself.

“This is Herr Raymond Swanson,” Greta said, giving Ed a funny look and tilting her head.

The man wearing Roy's face reached up and plucked a fedora off his head, gave Ed a smirk and said, “Just Ray is fine, I'm not the formal type.”

Somewhere, someone was laughing at him, he was sure of it. Ed's lips moved, but no sound came out. He thought he was prepared for these ghosts; he watched Alfons die, he thought he'd hardened himself to these specters who wore faces that made him ache for home.

But not for this one, there wasn't anything that could have prepared him for this one. His heart sang, his stomach ached, he felt light-headed and heavy at once and he _wanted_ , he wanted to go home!

“Edward,” Greta's voice pulled him from his stupor, “are you alright?” she asked with obvious concern, crossing the room toward him.

“I'm fine,” Ed managed to get out as he sat abruptly. Greta made a small distressed sound and hurried to his side, her hand finding his forehead. He flushed and reached up to catch her hand, gently pulling it away. “Greta, I'm fine,” he mumbled, then steeled himself and looked at Roy again.

 _This isn't who you want it to be. Don't think of him as... Roy._

“Herr Swanson,” Ed said, trying hard to wear his mask. “Will you pull up a chair; I believe Greta is making tea?” He looked at the young woman then and she sighed, nodded and turned to go to the back room.

The man called Ray Swanson pulled one of the wooden office chairs to the front of Ed's desk. He sat with casual grace, dropping his hat on Ed's desk and crossing his legs with his fingers laced in his lap.

 _What do you have for me today, Fullmetal?_

“Greta says Herr Gerhardt is taking you on the project,” Ed said tonelessly, dropping his eyes to his ledger. “I will need to see you onto the payroll and get your address for the books.”

“I'm living in a hotel at the moment,” Raymond Swanson said. “If this job pans out, I might find an apartment.” He leaned forward then, reached over and boldly plucked Ed's pen from his fingers to scribble a hotel name and address on Ed's desk blotter.

“You have your passport and proper papers for working, don't you?” Ed asked, mesmerized by the long fingers still around his pen. “I don't want any trouble for Herr Gerhardt if someone were to ask about the American at the job site.”

“Everything is in order,” Raymond Swanson assured him in his American-accented German. “Herr Gerhardt obtained the work papers for me himself; he's a very helpful man.”

“That he is,” Ed murmured. _Easily taken advantage of as well. If you are truly anything like... I will have to watch you. No, you are not who I want you to be._

“You're not German yourself,” Raymond Swanson said. “Unless I am mistaken?”

“No, I'm British,” Ed lied automatically. He'd been living with it for so long, it almost seemed like the truth.

“So, two strangers in a strange land,” Raymond Swanson said. “Maybe I can come to you when local customs make me scratch my head in bewilderment. I think I can relate more to a Brit than most of the local yokels.”

“If you have questions,” Ed said, “I will do what I can to help. The locals are warm and helpful; you don't have anything to worry about. They are very accepting when they see you pulling your own weight.”

“I know,” Raymond Swanson said. “Let's go to dinner tonight. You can show me the good places to eat, I'm guessing, and we can talk.”

“I'm sorry,” Ed started, but Greta arrived with the tea and interrupted him.

“I think that is an excellent idea, Herr Swanson,” she said, setting the tray on Ed's desk. “Edward spends far too much time cooped up in his room or with just Onkle and I for company. The two of you have something in common besides sausages and numbers.”

“But I thought...” Ed said looking up at the young woman.

“We can go out tomorrow,” Greta smiled. “Edward, you need a friend of your own age, and Herr Swanson needs advice on living abroad.”

“Very well then,” Ed said, not feeling comfortable with the idea.

 _Let me take you out, we can get meat sauce and noodles if you like._

“It's settled then,” Raymond Swanson accepted the cup of tea Greta handed to him. “I can swing by here tonight when I get back from the site. Thank you, Miss Gerhardt, for the tea and the dinner plans,” he smiled at her and Ed's heart raced and faltered a moment.

“My pleasure,” Greta said. “I know you will find Edward charming company, the same as I do,” she said.

 _Well... isn't this ironic._

***

Ed cursed the stiffness of his prosthetic fingers and rechecked his tie in the mirror for the third time. He stopped and looked at his false hand, sighed and told himself he should be grateful to have it at all. It had taken awhile to grudgingly admit the old man had been useful for _something_. When he sat propped on pillows on a thin mattress in a dully lit room, he had nothing but despair. The automail had ceased to function almost the moment he'd awoken in this place yet again, and at the time, he had not recognized his uncanny ability to always materialize near Hohenhiem as luck.

His... father had spent many hours over many nights trying to understand why the automail had ceased to work. In the end, he had come up with this solution, the limbs Edward now wore. They were pale, the rubberized skin horribly off color, but Edward was used to long sleeved shirts, long pants and gloves long before this necessity to hide his body parts once again. Ed retreated to the office, fished his gloves out of his pocket and pulled them on. The sun had been down for nearly an hour and he was beginning to think that Raymond Swanson had been tied up, or perhaps merely forgotten about their dinner plans, _(he was torn between rage and relief over the speculation)_.

The office door opened with the sound of the small bell chime and Edward felt himself rooted to the spot. He should call this off; he shouldn't indulge himself this way. Nothing was going to come of this and his nights were just going to be longer and lonelier. He should ask Greta to marry him; he should let her Uncle buy them a house as a wedding present. He should go on from here and forget he was ever Edward Elric, State Alchemist and that he had any sort of life before the one he had now. He could make himself forget, he could make himself one of these people. He could live here; he could grow old here and die here. He could do it, give up the past and everything that went along with it. They were probably better off anyway without him there to make things complicated and chaotic. He should just tell Herr Swanson...

Raymond Swanson stuck his head through the doorway leading into the office and grinned when he saw Edward standing there. Edward, for his part, did a perfect imitation of a deer caught in the headlights of a speeding truck.

“Hey, there you are,” Raymond Swanson said in English. “You didn't have to dress up for me. Gloves are for fancy get togethers, I was hoping we could have beer and sausage. What are you waiting on? Let's go, I'm starved.”

***

“Is it alright to call you Ed?” Raymond Swanson asked as they walked down the sidewalk toward the center of town. Stuttgart was humming softly in the evening air. Already, the sound of music from a few local beergartens was gathering above their heads as people Ed might or might not have known waved to them from their tables and benches.

“Oh, of course,” Ed said, halfway distracted, halfway in love, halfway home. “Greta and Herr Gerhardt like Edward better, but I'm not opposed to a shortening of my name.”

“Good,” Raymond Swanson said. “I would really appreciate it if you called me Ray,” he continued. “Everyone here is so polite and formal, sometimes it's a little uncomfortable.”

“Very well... Ray,” Ed swallowed and put his eyes straight ahead.

“So, this place you're taking me? Apfelkern?” Ray said.

“Apple core in English,” Ed said. “it just sounds better in German. I thought you might like to try hard cider. I know you said beer, but that's plentiful, this place is a rarity among pubs. It specializes.” Ed felt a small smile touch his lips.

“You don't sound very British,” Ray said. “I guess living here and speaking German all the time, you must be losing your accent,” he stuck his hands in his pockets as they walked, his hat sat back on his head at a jaunty angle and his dark bangs almost hung in his eyes.

“I haven't been home in a long time,” Ed said truthfully. “I suppose it was bound to happen.”

“You must miss it,” Ray said. He turned to follow Ed into a small pub front and was soon sitting opposite him in a booth near the back. “You order for us,” Ray said. “You know what to get and I trust you,” he took his hat off and winked at Ed as he dropped it on the seat beside him.

Ed fumbled a moment with the waitress, but managed to get food and cider ordered. He then shrugged off his jacket and straightened his collar.

“You eat with gloves on?” Ray asked. “Is it because of your hand?”

Ed gave a start and Ray hastily added, “I'm sorry, Herr Gerhardt mentioned... but if you're uncomfortable with it, I understand.”

“It's alright,” Ed said, tugging on the ends of his gloves self-consciously. “But yes, that's why I do everything with gloves on.”

“Everything?” Ray said with a sudden devilish smile. “Does your girlfriend like that too?”

To his utter horror, Ed felt his cheeks heat. He would have thrown his hands up to cover his face, but they were rooted to the spot on the table.

“My girlfriend?” Ed squeaked.

Ray raised one black eyebrow and leaned forward just a bit over the table.

“I thought you and that young lady in the office might be involved, the way she fawned all over you this afternoon,” Ray said and smirked.

“Oh, Greta,” Ed said. “She's just... she's just kind and she thinks that I get sick often, but I don't,” Ed rambled.

 _That isn't... that's a lie. Why am I lying? What possible reason do I have to lie? This ISN'T WHO I WANT IT TO BE. I can tell him the truth, I want... Greta, I want my life... home..._

“You do look a little flushed,” Ray teased. He sat back and smiled as food and a pitcher was brought to the table. The waitress sat two steins down and filled them, then turned and hurried away. “But she's such a nice looking young woman and she's interested in you. There are a lot of nice looking young women around here,” Ray smiled.

 _Well, that hasn't changed. This isn't Roy, this ISN'T ROY._

Ed made a non-committal sound and lifted his mug of cider to his lips. Ray merely grinned, then followed suit.

***

Ed didn't tell Roy who Raymond Swanson resembled. It wasn't a lie exactly, okay it was an omission, but Roy didn't need to know, especially after...

Roy interrupted his thoughts.

“So, I was wondering who you... picked certain habits up from,” Roy said softly. Then Roy's lips again, on his temple, down the side of his jaw. Ed closed his eyes and finally went boneless. This was... cathartic. Telling someone, why hadn't he done it before? Even his earlier anger at Roy's manipulations seemed faded now.

“Not any good habits,” Ed muttered. “Just habits.”

Roy began to... rock him. A gentle swaying back and forth. Ed thought he should be angry about this, all this... coddling. It wasn't like him to endure such treatment, but he was feeling drained and it was strangely comforting. Roy's hand moved, caught Ed's automail hand and lifted it, bringing metal fingers to his lips. Ed watched him through slitted eyes. Roy kissed the steel fingers curled loosely over his own.

***

Two weeks found him rushing dinner with Greta and Herr Gerhardt to meet Ray at a pub or beergarten afterwards. A month later, Ray followed him into the darkened shop one night after coming home from a pub.

Ed twisted under him. He could close his eyes and hear the voice and he could _pretend_. Ray could be rough, though. He seemed to like to hold Ed's wrists down, but then just when Ed was feeling uncomfortable, like he might protest, Ray would gentle, calm him. One astonishing night, Ray opened up a new vista for him.

“I'm feeling lazy,” Ray murmured against Ed's throat, “I think I'll have you do the work tonight.”

“What?” Ed murmured, already heated and hard. Ray laughed and _bit_ him on the shoulder. “Ow, dammit,” Ed said, reaching up to rub the offended spot. “Don't bite me, I don't like it.”

“What are you, twelve?” Ray said. “Damn Ed, for someone who's obviously had a male lover before, you are so... childish about the way you make love. I guess I'll go easy on you tonight.”

“I'm not childish,” Ed returned and then grunted as Ray moved him up into the pillows and onto his back. Ray straddled his thighs, snagged the oil off the bedside table, got his hand slick and did the most astonishing thing. As Ed watched, Ray reached back and eased fingers... into himself. It was shocking and unexpectedly hot. Ed _knew_ about this of course, Roy often had slick fingers inside of him. The last time he'd done so had been the night in the barn, the first and only time they _properly_ made love, but to see someone else do it, and to themselves… Ed felt both a bit like a voyeur and rather turned on.

“You like watching me do this,” Ray said above him, face mostly blanketed in shadow. “Does this turn you on, Ed?”

No sense in lying to the man. Ed nodded and reached up to rub Ray's thighs. Ray smirked, then Ed felt his own hard cock grabbed and fisted for a moment with the oil slick fingers that were just a moment ago inside Ray's body. Ray lowered himself, still holding Ed's cock.

Ed arched his head back for a moment. It was the most unusual sensation at first, and then it was _bliss_. He was encased tightly, then there was a roll of muscle all the way down his hard length. He licked his lips and his fingers tightened on Ray's thighs.

“You've never been on top before,” Ray said to him, leaning over him. “Not that you're really on top, but the term applies. Imagine that, that's not something I expected.”

Ed tried to form words, but that required thought and thought was beyond him. Ray began to move himself slowly, up and down. Ed's fingers dug into his thighs hard. In a haze, Ed thought it might be painful, but Ray made no protest.

“Fuck me. Ed,” Ray whispered in the darkness. “Show me what you're made of,” he hissed. This, Ed understood. He vaguely registered the slamming of the headboard into the wall and the harsh pants and grunts from the darkness above him. His hands moved from Ray's thighs to his hips, pulling down on them as he arched up with his hips. He wanted deeper, he wanted harder, he wanted faster, he wanted _more_. Ray was suddenly laughing and Ed didn't know why, but then he didn't care why. He came and light exploded somewhere behind his eyes; when he could see again, he was nose to nose with Ray. Ray smirked, then leaned over and bit him on the shoulder _again_.

“I told you that fuckin' hurts,” Ed growled.

“Give as good as you get,” Ray said. “You'll get to return the favor,” he nipped again and laughed when Ed moved to shove him off. He let himself be rolled, lay for a moment at Ed's side, then sat up, stood and stretched.

“Stay,” Ed mumbled from the rumpled blankets and sheets.

“What? No Ed, Greta might come in early,” Ray said and picked up his pants. “Besides, if you're going to gripe at me about a few love bites...”

Ed's brow furrowed. He didn't like being bitten. Roy never bit him. _This isn't Roy._

“Well, I'm not used to it,” Ed offered. “We can get up early, tell Greta you came in early,” he asked again.

Ray shook his head and got dressed. He went over, sat on the edge of the bed and stroked Ed's hair.

“You know, I really like you,” Ray said. “But you need to loosen up on these hangs ups of yours. I don't want to bed a kid.”

Ed struggled hard to hold his temper, struggled not to reach up and shove the hand petting his hair away. The bastard had no right to talk to him like this, he wasn't a fucking kid. He was 21 years old.

 _  
I don't want to be alone. This isn't Roy. I want to go home. This isn't Roy. NO, it's not Roy! But if I can just have this..._

“I'm sorry,” Ed heard himself say. “I've only had one... lover before you, he was different and I was... younger.” _I am not apologizing, you bastard! I'm not!_

“Don't be sorry, just be better,” Ray said standing. “I'll see you tomorrow. Oh, but I can't go out with you tomorrow night. I've got other plans.”

Ed's heart leapt into his throat. He half pushed up on his hands and hip.

“What other plans?” Ed asked. Was that his voice? Did he sound that fucking pathetic?

“Adelle,” Ray said and grinned. “She works over in the market, you know the one. Taller than you, darker blonde.”

Ed could only hear his own heart pounding in his ears for several long moments. He bit his bottom lip savagely.

 _Don't fucking beg him to come afterwards!_

“Well, what about after? I could wait up,” Ed said.

Ray looked at him for a long moment, then shook his head and gave a small laugh.

“Okay Ed,” he said, turning toward the door. “If you want it that bad.” He gave a wave over his shoulder as he walked out of the back room.

 _What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck is wrong with me? HE'S NOT ROY!_

Ed fell back to the bed and ground his forehead into the pillow.

 _It's all I have left of home._

***

The first time Ray tried to tie him up, Ed fought him. For a few moments, Ray indulged him, chuckling, but then he got a knee in the stomach. He had glared at Ed long and hard, then threw himself off the bed and went for his clothes.

“If you’re not going to indulge me, then you must not want me very much. Let’s just end this now; it’s a farce at best. I think I like women too much. You look like a woman sometimes with all this hair; that must have been the attraction. Why would I want you to touch me with that dead hand anyway?” Ray growled as he dragged on his clothes.

“No, wait,” Ed said, getting up, ”I didn't mean it... Ray...”

Ray stiffened as Ed touched his back, but refused to look at him. Ed moved up against his back slowly, putting his arms around him.

“You kneed me in the stomach,” Ray said angrily.

“I'm sorry; I just have this aversion...” Ed said.

“Everything with you is some kind of issue. I don't know about this anymore, Ed,” Ray said, but didn't try to loosen Ed's arms.

“I'm sorry,” Ed said again. “Just come back to bed, I'll try... Please, Ray...”

 _He's not Roy, don't fucking beg him, it's not worth it! Listen to yourself! What is this thing you're becoming?!_

Ray snorted, sighed and shrugged Ed off, beginning to undress again. Ed returned to the bed, held his arms out when Ray came back and grit his teeth when Ray shoved his hands above his head, tying him to the headboard. He cried out and came before Ray was through. Panting and watching Ray sit up, he felt Ray trail his hand down Ed's prone body.

“I should just leave you like that for Greta to find when she comes to wake you for breakfast in the morning. Then they could all see what a pervert you really are, wanting another man’s touch. I should be disgusted, but I feel sorry for you. You should be grateful, no one likes a cripple,” Ray said and shook his head.

“I know you're just saying that because you're still angry,” Ed said lowly and swallowed.

“I think this will be the last time, I just don’t find you all that appealing,” Ray sighed and pulled his hand away.

Ed pulled at his bound hands then turned his head away. He felt Ray reach up and free him, then he turned on his side and curled up.

 _I don't fucking need him! He's not ROY! He's just a bastard who looks like him and sounds like him. He's fucked up, he wants to fuck me up._

He blinked hard when he felt Ray's lips on his ear, then down the side of his neck. The gentleness was unnerving and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean that,” Ray said. “But I think I need some time to think about this. Don't wait up for a few nights; I need to get my head clear.”

Ed nodded, not trusting himself to speak with any steadiness. He listened to Ray get up, get dressed and heard the door bell chime as he left.

 _I don't need him. I'm fine and I can have a life here without him. When he comes back, I will tell him that I had time to think about it too and it's not what I want either. It will be fine, I will be fine._

It was the longest five days of his life to date and he cursed himself as he let Ray undress him in the darkness of his room that night.

***

The fifth year of his existence, _(because he no longer considered it his life)_ , found him with Greta's cold regards, Herr Gerhardt's disappointment and his fear of doing something to anger his lover. Ray deigned to be with him on the New Years and for that at least, he was grateful.

Because Greta found it better she pursue other things, she was seldom in the office. Herr Gerhardt took to sending messengers more often than not and so Ray was the only familiar face he ever welcomed in anymore.

One night, as they sat at the table in the back room, Ray leaned on his elbow and said, “Do you believe in magic?”

“Magic?” Ed said, looking up from his dinner. “No, that's child's nonsense.”

“So, no whimsy for you,” Ray said. “No dancing naked in the moonlight when the planets are aligned. No making fairy circles, no offerings to call on the energies of the world to grant your wishes?”

Ed pushed his boiled potato across his plate and frowned.

“What brought this on?” Ed said slowly.

“I was reading in the paper, the planets are going to be in the house of the sun or some other such nonsense on a full moon,” Ray said. “Just fancy, I thought about a drive to the country to have a look. Maybe a night in an inn somewhere.”

Ed's heart leapt and he tried to slow it down. Ray was always offering... scraps; a new book, a new pair of gloves, an insult or a bite. At least his need to lash Ed to the bed had abated of late, he'd even let Ed be 'on top'. Maybe he was changing, maybe Ed's patience was paying off, maybe this meant something. Maybe he could dare to think he might have a life again.

“That sounds rather spontaneous of you,” Ed said. “Do you think Herr Gerhardt would let you off for a day?”

“Well if you'd rather not,” Ray sighed, leaning back in his chair.

“It's not that,” Ed said hastily. “I could ask Greta to mind the office. I just thought we could make a proper trip of it.”

 _Maybe we could just keep going and not look back._

Ray smiled at him then and Ed forced the lump in his throat to swallow. Ray stood up, walked over to the bed and began to unbutton his shirt. Ed got up and moved the dishes to the sink, leaving them for later. He went over to Ray, undid the buttons on his cuffs, kissed his chest and Ray worked the tie out of Ed's ponytail.

Ray pushed him back then and Ed fell onto the bed, grinning when Ray opened his belt and pushed up his shirt, then pulled his pants to his knees.

“A day of it, a magic day. You know, they say all sorts of things happen when the planets line up: gateways open,” Ray said, undoing his own pants and drawing himself out. He stroked himself slowly and looked down at Ed.

“Gateway?” Ed muttered, eyes fixed on Ray's hand, on Ray's cock. Already, he could feel himself stirring, hardening. Ray leaned over him then, mouthed his cock and reached down to pull his shoes off, then pushed Ed's pants the rest of the way off and onto the floor.

Ed arched up a bit, moaned softly and relaxed. It had been a hectic day, full of columns of numbers and things that needed to be filed. He'd looked forward to tonight, of having Ray over him, of a climax that might let him sleep without dreams.

Ray caught his wrists suddenly and pinned them above his head; Ed parted his legs and Ray moved between them.

“I can't believe you've forgotten about the gateway,” Ray said, smiling down at him. “But you know, it takes more than just things being in tune, it takes the right offering. It takes blood.”

Ed blinked. Something about the tone of Ray's voice, the words he thought he'd just heard… He began dragging his mind from his lust-induced haze.

“What are you talking about?” Ed said and pulled on his wrists a little, they might as well have been bound in steel.

Ray's cock nudged his entrance and Ed felt nervous. He almost felt the need to shy from the contact, but Ray suddenly pushed up on the bed on his knees, his actions forcing Ed's parted legs to open wider, to offer himself up. The dim bulb from the kitchen area was still on and it played across Ray's face.

“I know the way home, FullMetal Pipsqueak,” Ray said, “and I need you to get me there.”

 _NO!_

 _NO!_

Ed slammed up with his body, but he could not free his wrists and he twisted his head, trying to sink his teeth into the nearest arm.

“What's wrong,” Ray grinned down at him, “I thought you didn't like biting. Why all the resistance now, you've been spreading your legs for me for almost an entire year,” Envy laughed loudly, and Roy's face grinned down at him. His eyes flashed dully in the dim light, no longer black.

“Aren't you glad to see me?” the monster crooned. “Doesn't this feel like home?” He slammed in. Ed arched his head back and screamed, but no one would hear him, no one would come. “You begged me for this,” Envy said as he began to thrust. “You all but crawled on your knees for me,” Roy's face moved to hang close to his. Ed thrust his head forward, snapping at his nose, but Envy drew back and laughed again. “Oh how the mighty have fallen,” he chortled, his pace fast, hard and sadistic.

Nausea rose and Ed panted against it. The pace was brutal and he was dry, it burned and it hurt as Roy's face swam in his view and Envy's voice taunted him above it all.

“FUCKER,” Ed screamed, “Get off of me! Get off of me! I'LL FUCKIN' KILL YOU!” Ed howled.

Envy leered down at him, ground into him and squeezed his flesh wrist until he couldn't feel his fingers.

“You know, it was drinking the old man's blood that let me shape shift,” he said. “But it's almost gone now. I didn't realize I could have used it to get back, get out of this stinking cesspool that bastard Hohenhiem let himself be trapped in, but now I have you, I have you. You're going to take me home, Ed. Aren't you happy? Aren't you glad? I'll be home and you'll be free. You'll be dead, but you'll be free.”

Ed's vision was starting to tunnel. He just wanted it to be over with; if only he'd stop. He tried slamming his false knee into Envy's side, but it did little good, it just went on and on and on.

“How easily you were lead to slaughter,” Envy said. “I only had to bide my time, to wait and study and know how the energies of this miserable plane pulsed. Then I learned you were here and it took some doing to find you, but I guessed right, didn't I? I guessed why you were at the beck and call of that pathetic Colonel,” Envy laughed again. “I'm sure he's dead now, I'm sure Pride dealt with him.”

Ed tasted blood; he'd bitten through his own lip. Don't listen to the monster's lies. DON'T LISTEN TO HIS LIES!

“Oh, let's not waste that,” Envy leaned down, darted his tongue over Ed's lip and whipped back faster than Ed's teeth could close.

“Fucking finish,” Ed panted. “Fucking get it over with.”

“I guess I can give you that much. You know, playing you like a fiddle took a lot of hard work, it will be nice to be able to let loose for a change,” the homunculus said with a grin, then bowed his head and began to move his hips as he liked.

Ed passed out soon after.


	14. Chapter 14

He's been in the apartment several times before, so he didn't know why it seemed so different now. He stood with his hands in his pockets and watched Sarah take off her sweater and lay it over the back of a chair next to the door. She then reached behind her, untied her apron and headed across the main room toward the hall.

“I'm going to change clothes,” she said. Havoc had escorted her home after her shift on the first night of Abby's absence. He smiled and nodded and when she turned down the hallway toward her room, he felt a fluttering in his stomach.

They were here and they were _alone_.

Sarah was a heavy petter. She was not above wandering hands and she didn't discourage Havoc's own wandering hands. In the months they had been dating, Havoc had discovered that Sarah's curves were very real and her bra was not padded.

He fidgeted nervously with the pack of cigarettes in his pocket and almost jumped when Sarah came back into the room, dressed in a pair of blousy pants and a soft sweater. She tilted her head at him, gave him a quizzical look and headed for the kitchen.

“Sit down already, soldier boy,” she laughed. “You know by now I don't bite. I'll get you something to drink.”

Havoc grinned at himself, moved over and flopped onto the couch, glancing at a magazine lying on the coffee table before putting his feet up on it. He could hear her moving around in the kitchen and for a moment he let himself believe this was his home and she was his...

He took his feet off the coffee table and sat up straighter on the couch, resisting the urge to once again pull out his pack of smokes. Sarah walked back in, moved over behind him and slid her arms over his shoulders. He titled his head back and she grinned at him upside down.

“Making you some coffee, although I don't think you need it,” she said. “What's up with you, you're being really quiet,” she kissed him then on his nose.

“I don't know,” he answered honestly. “I guess some things are just catching up with me, this is getting a little real,” he kept looking up at her.

She smiled at him, fingered his blonde hair, still leaning over him.

“You think it's too fast?” she said. “You know I can wait if you want, you're worth the wait.”

 _So... she was expecting, she wants me to..._

Havoc wet his lips. She thought she was being too fast. He was glad in that very moment that Mustang had left the playing field ages ago and no longer felt the need to prod and pry and get details from Havoc about his dates. He would have had a field day with this one.

***

He was met by a car at the train station and was grateful for her thoughtfulness. The Corporal saluted him and Al smiled, waving his hand.

“No more need for that,” he told the soldier. “I'm just a civilian now.” He felt light saying it, happy, and slid into the backseat of the car when the corporal opened the door.

The trip to headquarters was quiet; the corporal was not given to chatting and Al was just as glad. He was tired and he wanted to report in, find out what Parkerson was having problems with and then head to his apartment for some real sleep. The train always made his ass sore now that he had it back.

His feet knew the way even in his half-awake state and he got stopped at the front desk to be given a visitor’s badge.

“You should just keep it, Al,” Corporal Tatum said and smiled, “You didn't even make it a week before showing back up, I have a feeling we'll be seeing a lot of you.”

Al gave her a wink, a cheerful mock salute and headed for the Colonel's office before reporting to the lab. He leaned into the open doorway of the office and Pharr grinned at him from across the room; the Colonel glanced up from her desk and smiled. Al started into the room, hand raising in an automatic salute, but she extended hers toward him.

“Alphonse,” she said. “I'm sorry we had to call you back, I hope the trip was alright and your brother not too upset.”

Al was caught with his hand halfway raised to attention. He looked at her outstretched one, then to his own and dropped it hastily, approaching the desk and extending it again, clasping hers.

“You know Ed,” Al said and smiled, “any little thing can set him right off.”

“I do,” she said, shaking his hand and _smiling_ , she was smiling at him. It was her usual reserved smile, but it was for him. He caught himself, made himself release her hand at the appropriate time.

“Lieutenant Parkerson will be most anxious to see you,” she said. “I'm gathering he's been rather startled at some of the results, so I won't keep you here.”

“I'll look into it straight away,” Al said. “I just wanted to let you know I was back in town were you to need me.”  
 _  
I wanted to see you, to hear your voice._

“Always considerate,” she said.

 _Ask her._

Al turned to the table and Pharr grinned at him again, giving a small wave.

“I knew you couldn't stay away,” the man said. “Everyone knows this is where all the action is,” Lieutenant Pharr winked at him and Al couldn't help his own grin.

 _Ask her._

“I couldn't very well leave you to your own devices,” Al said. “There's no telling what would happen should I let you loose on the world.”

 _Ask her now, while you can._

Pharr gave him a salute and Al gave a wicked smile in return, not saluting back. Pharr winked again.

 _What if she says no? It doesn't matter, you'll never know if you don't ask her. She danced with you, she confided in you, she smiled at you. Ask her._

“I better get down to the labs,” Al said, turning once again to the Colonel's desk. She had resumed her seat but looked up at him at the movement. “I was wondering Colonel,” Al said meeting her brown eyes, “what you were doing tonight?”

She made such a tiny gesture of surprise that no one but someone who was looking for it would have seen it.

“Well I have no real plans tonight,” she said. “Apart from my routine and Hayate's company.”

Al latched onto that, onto a connection between them.

“Would Hayate mind terribly if we went to dinner?” he asked.

The Colonel glanced down at the dog, asleep on his pillow again, now that the excitement of Al's arrival had lost its novelty. She then glanced back up at Al with a very thoughtful look. He thought in that moment she was onto him and would now deny him; it was already hard enough ignoring Pharr's incredulous looks being cast across the room in a manner he must have considered stealthy, but to have to face a rejection in front of him that he would later tease Al with, almost made the young alchemist break and run from the room.

Instead, he held his ground and his breath and waited. Her lips parted and her eyes rose back to his. He felt himself clench his fists and fought to undo the gesture as she began to speak.

“Seeing as how you had to come all this way when you were supposed to be enjoying your newly acquired freedom,” she started.

 _She's going to let you down easy, she's going to offer you an excuse. It's gracious and you can still hold your head up around Clay, even if he pokes you about it. It's not the end of the world, it's not the end of the world. Take a deep breath._

“I would be glad to go to dinner with you,” she finished.

“That's quite alright,” Al blurted. “I can understand you are busy, maybe next...” and he stopped, floundered with his mouth open before snapping it shut.

“You will?” he said and then winced inwardly at the disbelieving tone issuing from his own lips before rushing ahead to try to cover his embarrassment. “I mean, that's wonderful, should I meet you here?”

She was giving him this rather indeterminate look and he leapt upon his internal reference guide for the woman, pawing through its pages madly, but she didn't let him finish the search.

“Why don't you meet me at my home,” she said. “That way I can change out of uniform and walk Hayate before we go.”

Al snapped his jaw closed, nodded once and tried to smile, but he was sure it was strange and off putting.

“Seven o'clock is alright?” he squeaked and barely stopped himself from slamming his hand over his mouth. He liked to tell everyone he was twenty-three despite looking like an eighteen year old. He should add in that he had the social age of a ten-year old with a schoolyard crush.

“I look forward to it,” she said, nodding to Al who nodded back. When he came back to his senses, he was in the lab and Parkerson was looking at him like he'd grown a second head on the way there. He didn't know how he got there, he didn't care and life was grand.

“Hello,” he said to Parkerson, “let me take care of this problem for you; after all, I really have to thank you. If you hadn't been watching the experiment to note the changes and you hadn't been so anal and decide that my opinion was so needed as to engage me in a two day train trip when I was supposed to be visiting my family, then I wouldn't be here and she wouldn't have said yes.” He grabbed Parkerson's hand and shook it hard.

“Thank you, thank you Lieutenant Parkerson,” Al sighed. He tried to ignore the look on the man's face; he knew very well he had no coherent thought processes at the moment and the insanity that slipped from his lips, _(while being insanity, that was true)_ , was just something he was going to have to learn to deal with.

Just look at Ed, it ran in the family.

***

 _Do you think for one moment..._

Ed made a soft, half-startled sound against the side of Roy's throat when Roy began tightening his arms again. Ed shifted but didn't try to get away as Roy drew his legs up as well, all but enfolding Ed into his body.

 _that I do not know..._

Ed made a ragged sound from the cocoon of flesh he was now trapped in, his automail hand flattened against Roy’s stomach and his flesh arm circled around Roy's back and pulled, as if he could somehow help the melding process along.

 _whose face that monster used to trap you with?_

“He... he was...” Ed stuttered and Roy longed to say _”No, stop, you don't have to tell me anymore_ ”, but he knew that would not help. He knew they had come too far down his memory to turn back. It would not help Ed and it would leave Roy with doubts and unanswered questions that would forever hang between them if Ed did not finish.

“He was not who I wanted... who I thought he was... who I... he wasn't,” Ed blurted out, muffled by Roy's throat.

 _It used MY FACE! My face, and it did this. After everything it did in my image... he still came to me, called to me, wanted me to hold him!_

 _How pathetic am I? My tormentor is also my comforter?_

Roy moaned. It wasn’t a pleasant sound and he bowed his head, digging in with his fingers. Ed squirmed but pressed harder. Love had been used as a lure, a trap, a betrayal. It used Ed's love against him. The only thing Ed had ever put his whole faith in, was turned and twisted and maligned.

Yet Ed still believed.

Ed made a shushing sound and seemed to be trying to rock Roy, to comfort Roy. Bile rose in his throat and he struggled for control.  
 _  
I have taken care of you, I have looked after you, I have loved you. I always wanted to protect you, yet somehow you got away from me. You are trying to comfort me in the midst of all this horror. Yes, I have loved you and I have done it madly, passionately and without reason, but you have loved me with your faith, with that part of you that is unstoppable, unshakeable. I am a human and a man, that is all I am. What does this make you? I used to think you were untouchable, but that was a lie. You made yourself weak by letting me in. You made yourself vulnerable and you humbled yourself because of what you saw in that thing pretending... MY FACE..._

“Kill it,” Roy growled, a wrong, ugly sound, “Make it... die, I'll kill it... I will... protect you, even from ME.”

Ed jerked in his arms and hissed, his fingers now digging, tightening.

“It wasn't you!” Ed cried. “Stop it, stop it. It wasn't you! I'm telling you this for giving me your patch and I'm telling you this because it is part of me and someone needs to know to make it real; not some insane dream that I have over and over. I know it happened and I'm still alive, they didn't win! I want to tell you, because you deserve to know, because you are part of me and I don't want these dark places anymore! I never want you to think you should hide things from me anymore, so I'm giving it to you!”

Roy struggled with his breathing, his voice. He bowed his head, shoving his forehead to Ed's temple.

“You give me everything,” Roy said roughly. “You've always given me everything, this is...”

“It's the last of me that's dark,” Ed said lowly. “When I am done you will have everything. You think this is selfless? It isn't. When you gave me the patch, when I took it... the monster was gone. It's not there anymore Roy, it’s gone.”

“Gone,” Roy echoed, his lips found Ed's cheek, his jaw.

“I woke up in a dark, enclosed place, turns out it was the rumble seat of a car,” Ed continued hoarsely.

***

He chewed at the rag in his mouth and twisted at the bonds holding his hands behind his back, all the while suffocating darkness pressed in all around him. He tried to kick with his legs, but the space was cramped even for him and he could do little but lie there. There was no sense of the passage of time, no way to know where and when he was, there was nothing.

This is how it was ending.

He ordered himself to lie still because really, what was the use? It was over now, it would all be over. No, he didn't appreciate that it would end this way, he didn't appreciate it would end with the leering visage of a _sin_ or his taunts, but in one thing Envy was right, he would be free. He would be free of this world and his memories and his pain, physical and emotional, and he hoped there would just be nothing on the other side. No thought, no torment, just nothing. That would be true freedom.

There was a noise above him, then the lid of the rumble seat lifted. He could just make out the figure in the hazy light of what must be near dawn and when it reached in and grabbed him, lifting him from his prison, he offered no resistance. He was stood upright and Ray _(Why bother to call him other than Ray? He had known Ray for almost a year, Envy was just a sudden inconvenience)_ , shook his head and put his hands on his hips.

“This isn't any fun,” Ray said. “Don't tell me you want to cooperate, you were never any good at cooperating. We tried all manners of persuasion, maybe we should have waited until you were a little older.” Ray reached up then, stroked fingers through Ed's bangs and Ed jerked his head to the side. His next reaction was all instinct; it seemed that even though his rational mind wanted to get this over with, his emotional mind had other ideas.

He was fast, but Envy was faster, _(No, calling him Ray is too close to calling him... who you wanted him to be. Call it for what it is, don't give it the satisfaction of your discomfort. This isn't Roy)_ , turning quickly to the side. Ed's raised knee slammed into Envy's thigh instead of his groin and Envy made a tsking noise, shaking his head and spreading his hands.

“That was lame,” Envy said, “it's almost as if you are of two minds on this whole matter. But still, can't have you doing that again.” Envy grabbed him by the shoulders then and Ed made a strangled sound. The sin lifted its foot and slammed the heel hard into Ed's prosthetic knee. There was a sick cracking sound as the artificial joint snapped all the way backwards and Ed stumbled, falling against Envy's chest who shoved him back again. The leg refused to respond and Ed went down on his ass, sitting there panting for a moment.

“Look, shorty. Let's not make this any harder on yourself than it already is,” Envy walked over, reached down and yanked Ed back to his feet. Incredibly, he steadied Ed, letting him find balance on his ruined leg before reaching up and roughly working the knot loose from the rag in his mouth. When he removed it, Ed spit a few times and licked his lips. He didn't move much because his balance was precarious at best, and his hair hung in his eyes. He was sore all over, vaguely surprised that Envy had bothered to redress him after their last encounter and disoriented as to his whereabouts.

“All this resistance is going to get you nowhere,” Envy said. “We both know it's inevitable, the superior power wins.”

“Superior,” Ed gave a hoarse laugh. “Superior enough to wind up in the same boat as me and the old man, stuck here with no road back.”

“That is why we are here,” Envy said. “To remedy that, now come on.” He grabbed Ed by the upper arm and yanked. Ed stumbled forward, started to fall and then was simply dragged toward a hillock just beyond the parked car.

“Fucking shift,” Ed suddenly snarled. “Fucking do this with your own face you goddamn coward.”

“I showed you my face before you made the trip over,” Envy said sweetly. “You didn't seem to like it, you like this one much better. I thought you would appreciate the gesture.”

“You thought wrong,” Ed said. Envy was dragging him by his false arm. The strap was pulling tight across his chest and the joint was being pulled painfully against the remaining flesh of his shoulder. He kicked out with his flesh leg, dragged his heel through the dirt and vaguely noticed that there seemed to be something there. Envy grunted in annoyance then and completely hefted him into the air, then sat him on his feet again a little ways away.

Ed teetered for a moment before steadying himself. As long as he leaned forward on the broken, false leg, it would support him; the joint could not go any further forward than it normally did. Envy then did the strange and additional kindness of freeing his hands and standing back, tossing the bit of rope aside. Envy put his hands on his hips and shook his head, snorting.

“Can't take you anywhere, pipsqueak,” he grumbled. It was then Ed noticed the array, the one drawn in the dirt of the hillock, all around them; he was standing in the middle. Ed chaffed at his aching flesh wrist with his prosthetic hand and surveyed the markings in the dirt. Some were familiar, calling on certain elements, and some were archaic, but he recognized them from ancient alchemic texts he'd studied in his youth. Other things were unrecognizable, however, in a language he didn't understand and there were strange symbols he'd never encountered in his research.

“What is this?” he mumbled, watching Envy look around and pick up a stick lying on the ground before heading for the portions Ed had disturbed with his heels.

Envy stopped by the disturbed earth and gestured.

“It's a faerie ring, an array of this world, more or less,” Envy said. “I just added a few modifications,” he began to scratch in the dirt. “The real key is, of course, material from the other side of the gate. It took a while to figure out that this world wasn't completely magicless as I first believed. Do you know what it was like being stuck in one form for days, weeks, months on end?”

“No, and I don't care,” Ed said. “You mentioned Hoenhiem's blood, so I'm assuming you killed him?”

Envy's face split into a grin that had nothing to do with humor, and Ed felt something inside him twist painfully. He and the old man had never really come to terms and it wasn't like he was exactly there for Ed when Ed fell here. He had taken Ed in, helped him get on his feet and provided for him, but Ed told himself it was out of some deranged sense of parental guilt he'd developed while living here. He figured Hoenhiem had suffered some epiphany in his isolation that had prayed on him; it was too little too late, and maybe he even knew it... but it shouldn't have been like this. He shouldn't have died like this.

“You sick fuck, change your face,” Ed grumbled again as Envy moved behind him, out of his line of vision. “I'd much rather see your ugly mug than...” he broke off and gasped as pain laced through his back. He took a stumbled half step forward and the pain came again. He stood trembling, managing to keep his feet and distractedly watched some of his own hair flutter to the ground around him. He felt something wet on his back and his shirt stuck to him, his vest seemed to gap open. He saw Envy's arm then, sharp like a blade and long. He watched it retract back into the sleeve of his shirt and reform into a hand at the end.

“You never know when to quit, do you shorty?” Envy said, tossing the stick aside and starting up the hill. Ed watched him come sidelong, jaw tight, back burning. “You should be thanking me that I'm letting your miserable Colonel see you off. It also reminds me, I have quite a bone to pick with that sniveling little brother of yours when I get back.”

“Al?” Ed said, almost involuntarily. He hadn't let himself think of his little brother, not since he'd resigned himself to life in this place. Just that one time, when he thought Greta might have married him... but not since then.

“Yes, Al,” Envy said in a simpering tone. “He's the reason I ended up here, I'm always good about paying my debts. Too bad his big brother won't be there to watch me tear him limb from limb, poke holes in his precious little blood seal.”

Edward felt all the blood drain from his face, his flesh fingers felt numb and his heart staggered inside of his chest. Alphonse... Al! He couldn't let this monster hurt Al. No, it could end like this for him, but not for his brother. Not after everything, not after he'd given his life. Yes, he was still alive, but he'd given his life. He'd given up his family, he'd given up his lover, he'd given up his home... that had to _count for something!_ His mind reeled and he cast about desperately, but there was nothing there, only a field, trees and a fence line in the distance. The road they'd traversed to get there could be called anything but that, it was more like a meandering cow path.

 _You know, it was drinking the old man's blood that let me shapeshift_

If the ability to travel the gate was locked in one’s soul, if everyone held a gate inside them that made alchemy possible, what was held in the blood? If a soul was part of a body that was a gate, then the blood was also a part of the way to open the gate. A soul would have a genetic stamp on it, just like the living vessel it inhabited. Therefore, the blood would hold part of the soul within it. He could piecemeal together Envy's logic: Envy couldn't perform alchemy because being a homunculus, he was soulless and therefore without a gate. However, by using the blood of someone with a soul, _(but not just anyone, it obviously had to be someone who practiced alchemy)_ , he could affect an alchemic reaction. Envy was a product of alchemy, and his 'birth', like the birth of other homunculi, had called upon the gate. So in some sense, Envy, while not a part of the gate, must be in tune with the gate.

Ed looked again at the array he was standing in and at the smirking monster who was enjoying his despair, but it wasn't despair, not anymore. He had his own theory, one he needed to test, for what did he have to lose truly? His life? He'd already lost that six years ago while giving life back to his brother. He grit his teeth, squared his shoulders, swung his hip out and propelled the prosthetic leg forward, hopping after it, his right foot coming down on a line of the array. The gate made it possible for him to create an array within his clasped hands. His body was an array for all intent purposes. _If blood was needed, he had blood._ Envy snorted then, shook his head and headed towards him.

“You know, this really bores me, you've become pathetic,” the homunculus said, pausing right in front of him.

“I don't have to rely on the emotional weaknesses of others,” Ed said. “I don't have to lie about what I am to achieve what I set out to do; I don't have to hide behind other peoples faces. I think you should redefine pathetic in your standards.”

Envy's lip curled at the side and he backhanded Ed across the face, over his lip that had been bitten through previously, and Ed tasted the metal sheen of blood as it welled from the reopened bite. He slowly raised the fingers of his flesh hand to it and pulled them across the cut, ignoring the sting. He looked at the fresh blood, dark against his fingers, and back up at Envy. The sin shook its head and flexed its arm as a strange, rippling, rolling motion started at its shoulder.

Edward clapped his hands.

Blue and white, it flashed around him and he flinched from it, having not seen it in so long. The prosthetic arm groaned and screamed in its death throes as the metal and gears of it were forced into a form it was never meant to take. The rubberized skin fell in scraps toward his feet, but Ed neither noticed nor cared, for he threw himself forward. He barely registered the array at his feet echoing the flash of his hands, his arm jarred hard at the shoulder but he kept pushing forward. Envy's hands clawed at his arm and the homunculus opened its mouth, only to have blood well from it. It tried to pull back, but dragged Ed along with it, Ed and the makeshift blade he'd fashioned from Hoenhiem's creation. It wasn't as sharp, it wasn't as strong, but it was buried deep in Envy's flesh, at the divot of his throat.

“You know, you should know when to keep your big trap shut,” Ed sneered into its face. “You were doing fine until you mentioned Al, you won't lay a finger on Al, you fucker.”

Envy continued to claw at him, it continued trying to speak as blood from its wound welled and ran down its body, dripped to the ground, falling onto the array.

There was a rumbling, the ground beneath them tilted and moaned and Ed would have fallen had it not been for the sin holding him up by clutching his fake arm. The shadow that fell over them both was both terror and welcome. Death, life, home, hell... it no longer mattered, all that did matter was that this thing die and Al be happy and free. There were other matters too, but now, when he tried to think of them, purple eyes and a leering grin waged war in his memories.

“You took him from me,” Ed screamed even as the grating screeching sound of door hinges split the air around them. “You fucker you took him from me! I'll never forgive you, never forgive you! He was mine!” It was important for some reason Ed couldn't fathom, that this monster know the enormity of the crime it committed when it betrayed Ed with his lover's face. Ed was certain that Al was safe, then and now, but the Colonel whom he left standing on the road...

 _Pride has dealt with him by now_

He never once looked up, he knew by the way the hair on his nape was standing that thousands of eyes were upon them. Envy flailed and Ed did see black hands attached to black ribbons winding around the sin’s arms and legs, reaching for him. There was a violent jerk and his arm came free. Released from the alchemic reaction, it reverted to as much of it's natural state still left and fell to his side, useless, but that hardly mattered. Fingers danced over his body, through his hair, wound lovingly around his arms and legs. As his vision began to tunnel, as he took what would be his final breaths, he heard a horrible noise and saw the hands fight over Envy, each claiming a piece. Ed shut his eyes tight, hoping he would be dead before such a thing happened to him, and tried to have a more pleasant memory carry him into oblivion. In the end, all he could think of was Al's smiling face.

Tears stung his eyes that he was not strong enough to separate another face from more recent events. He was fucking pathetic.

Then the darkness closed in.

***

Ed was shaking hard. Roy pushed back Ed's bangs and his eye searched Ed's face worriedly.

“You know what happened after that,” Ed managed. “But you don't know it all. I woke up, I was home. I tried to call you, but I couldn't find you, I thought you were _dead_.” Ed took deeper, shaking breaths and Roy kissed his forehead, his brow. Ed swallowed, no more dark places.

“I lost my nerve after I called Winry, I was _scared_. For some reason, I still thought when I saw you it would be Envy, I _know_ that's irrational, I saw Envy torn apar... but I still thought it was you and so I hid. Then you were there I watched from the alley when you went into the hotel and I still couldn't move and then you came out and you were walking back up the street and you went under the lamp...” Ed stilled for a moment, then set his jaw and plunged on.

“You weren't you! You were different, you had that goddamn, beautiful, wonderful eye patch and you looked DIFFERENT!” Ed shuddered all over and jerked in Roy's grip, but Roy only held tighter, silent, listening. “Aren't you listening?” Ed half sobbed. “I was glad... I was _glad_ you were maimed and old and different. I was glad your eye was gone! Because then what he was wasn't you and I had you back and he didn't take you from me! FUCK! I sound insane!” Ed began to laugh, a high distressed sound.

Then Roy's mouth was over his own and he couldn't breath and he didn't care. He let Roy swallow his grief and pain, panting when Roy released him.

“The eye patch is yours,” Roy whispered in his ear. “I give it to you, whenever you want it. No more dark places, I promise.”

Ed could only nod, press against Roy's chest and breathe.

“I'm going to try and become Prime Minister,” Roy said quietly. “The Xingian Court has a vested interest in me because I believe that some border disputes are being handled badly. I believe that the parliament is showing too much throat in its effort to be loved by the people. I think the country is weakening under their rule. We didn't come all this way just to let bureaucracy sacrifice us like lambs.”

“Where do I figure in?” Ed said hoarse and soft.

“There is no figuring in,” Roy said. “You are my lover, you are my husband for lack of better term. You just _are_ and I won't be without you.”

“But you still want discretion,” Ed said. “I still don't look good on your arm at state functions.”

“You look incredible on my arm at state functions,” Roy said, then sighed. “I wish things were more open. In truth, we have been spoiled because of the good people around us.” Roy nosed through his hair and stroked down his arm. “I love you Ed, I'm not ashamed of it. There is no one in the world that deserves to be loved as you do.”

Ed tilted his head back, looking up at him and Roy's hand lifted to Ed's upturned face, fingertips stroking it.

“I'll be good,” Ed said with a sigh. “I'll do what you want me to do. I'll try not to complain.”

It hurt. It hurt so badly it surprised him and Roy could only stare for a moment into the weary eyes of the man in his arms. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be Ed sacrificing again.

“That's not what I want,” Roy said. “That's not what I want from you, Ed.”

“But what else can there be?” Ed questioned. “I won't ruin your chances; I can't really support you openly. The only thing I can do is be is unobtrusive, you know, behind the scenes. It's not so bad; I'm over my days of the need for attention, good or bad. If you want to be Prime Minister... I guess I can live with that.”

Ed would not ask Roy to forgo anything, because Ed knew what it was to give up on your hopes and dreams. For a long time they just sat there, Roy wrapped around Ed, and they listened to one another breath. Roy had listened and Roy had talked and Ed felt drained and exhausted, but better than before.

“Forgive you,” Ed said against Roy's throat.

“Don't deserve you,” Roy murmured back.

***

 _Worth the wait._

He wasn't the only one. He stood slowly from the couch and walked around it as Sarah looked up at him and smiled.

“You know, I'm a fool not to jump at this and I'm a fool if I were to jump at this,” Havoc said. “I've been with my share of women, I know you know that, and this might sound cheesy, but none of them were you.” He ran a hand through his hair and gave her a half smile.

“Are you laying the 'good-enough-to-marry' line on me?” Sarah grinned. “You really are a piece of work, soldier boy.”

Havoc's eyes got a little big and Sarah laughed, making patting motions in the air with her hands.

“Don't panic, I'm not reading a proposal here and I'm not making one either,” she chuckled. “Damn, just when I thought I had met them all, I had to go and find a good one. What am I going to do with you?”

“I'm not sure, I don't even know what to do with me half the time,” Havoc grinned back. “But I like this; I want to see where this goes... you in?”

“Hell yeah I'm in,” Sarah said. “I like to take risks; it's the only way to get good on your investment.”

“I promise to try to make your return as big as possible,” Havoc grinned, then softened and leaned over her. Sarah kissed him, resting her hands on his hips, and when they parted, he rested his forehead on the top of her head.

“So I guess you better go then,” she said.

“Yeah, I guess I better go,” he lamented. “Pick you up when you get off tomorrow?” he asked.

“Yeah, I like this walking me home stuff, makes me feel special,” she said.

They kissed again at the door and Havoc left. He couldn't help the little smile on his face as he went down the sidewalk, hands jammed in his pockets.

***

It was seven o'clock and he stood outside the door of the Colonel's house with his hand raised, hovering to knock. He let his knuckles rest against the door for a moment without truly knocking and then nodded and pulled his knuckles back.

He would knock, yes he would knock this time. He clenched and unclenched his hand, then clenched it again. Knocking, it was the simplest thing in the world. You just hold up your hand, draw it back a bit, then strike it against the object you wish to knock upon. In this case, the object was a door. It was a wooden door, finished and painted a slate gray. It went well with the exterior of the house that was painted an eggshell off-white. The shutters were black and the mail slot in the door was weathered bronze, there was a bronze plate around the door handle as well. The curtains in the front window looked to be a dark blue with white sheers and the lawn was immaculately trimmed, as well as the hedges, box clipped.

Knock, there as nothing to it, just some forward momentum with a hand, hardly any force at all. It would produce a sound on the gray, wooden door that would alert the occupant of the eggshell, off-white house that there was a visitor awaiting her pleasure. Perhaps Hayate would bark. Alphonse was not sure, because Hayate never barked at the office unless he was told to speak. He didn't seem to mind the steady traffic in and out of the Colonel's office, which led Alphonse to believe he wasn't very territorial there. But this was his home, it might be different. A knock might arouse his instincts to bark to alert an intruder that this was his territory. Many dogs reacted this way to sounds outside the boundaries of their living rooms, but Hayate was a well trained dog and he might be trained not to bark when there was a knock, so in this case perhaps, Al should knock louder.

He drew his hand back a bit further, because after all, all he had to do was knock and that was an exceedingly simple thing. So he rapped once on the door and stood frozen. He'd done it, he had knocked. There was a sound on the other side, the click-click of dog nails on hardwood and then he thought he heard a voice as the doorknob turned. The Colonel opened the door, no, that was not right, Riza Hawkeye opened the door, out of uniform and with her hair loose about her shoulders. It was as if Alphonse were receiving some gift he felt ultimately unworthy of and when she smiled at him, he knew he was lost.

***

“Alphonse, right on time, would you like to come in a moment?” she asked pleasantly, Hayate standing at her feet, wagging his tail.

“Oh, thank you,” Al stepped hesitantly past the threshold and the Colonel, _(No, Riza)_ , shut the door behind him. Hayate sat politely in front of Al's feet to impede further progress until a proper greeting was given. Al obliged with a smile, a friendly word and a scratch on the head, so Hayate moved to allow him to pass.

Al had never been inside her home and he looked around without trying to be obvious about it. It was neat and orderly as to be expected, and his eyes were drawn to many shadowbox frames on the walls, each holding a gun. He knew from his long association with her of her interest in firearms, and her skills at rebuilding antiques was not a secret. Riza followed his gaze and smiled.

“This is part of my collection,” she told him and moved toward the wall. “This one here was given to me by my Grandfather, he was a General and stationed here in the East. I don't think you ever met him, I have him to thank for my hobby.”

Al looked up at the gun in question, an old revolver that had been restored. He knew she had a Grandfather who was in the military, but he'd never known his rank or station. He felt awed that she was sharing the information, that now he knew a bit more than he had before. It felt like a treasure.

“Your skills with firearms are a lot broader than people think,” Al said. “This is an amazing collection.”

Riza nodded and let her eyes wander over the frames, then turned back to him.

“I thought to indulge you the Elric trait of noodles with meat sauce,” she said and smiled. “Would you like to go to Brio's?”

She was thinking of him, of what he might like, and his chest tightened with the thought. Maybe it could always be like this, maybe she could always be thinking of him as he thought of her and it would be good, they could be together. Sure, he had fantasized it a million times over, but here now, like this, he could see it becoming a reality. His impulse was to reach for her, take her hand and thank her for her thoughtfulness, but he quelled the strong reaction because despite it, she hadn't given him that sort of freedom, only the freedom of her friendship outside of her military office. That was to be honored and he would not betray it.

“You don't have to indulge me,” Al said and smiled. “I thank you for it as always, but I know not everyone shares this gene that forces my brother and I to seek out the finest in pasta and red sauces. We can go anywhere you like.”

“Then I would like to go to Brio's,“ she said, returning his smile with her own and moving to pick up the purse that was lying on a couch side table.

“Your wish of course is my command,” Al said, leaning down to give Hayate one last pat. “I promise to bring her home safe and sound,” he told the dog who wagged his tail.

There was a moment at the door where they regarded one another. In his mind's eye, Al offered his arm and she took it, but in reality, she opened the door and gestured with her head for Al to precede her. Because he could deny her nothing, he did, and on the walk, he jammed his hands in his pockets to keep them to himself as she walked beside him, head up and hair loose.

“Let's make a promise,” she suddenly said, “to not talk shop at dinner. I know it will be difficult for both of us, but truly Alphonse, I'd like to talk to you, not talk _at_ you about work.”

His heart hammered as he nodded his head.

“We are both such creatures of habit,” Al said. “You’re probably right, but I'm game if you are. It will be interesting to see what we come up with when deprived of our very existence in conversation.”

She laughed and he grinned, and unbidden, he gestured with his elbow. It wasn't meant as an offer, _(but it was, even if he didn't intend it to be)_ , and she glanced at it a moment. He was already on the path to ruin, he and his sentimental leanings were plotting his downfall, but when she raised her hand and took his elbow, everything that had come before fell away. He couldn't speak then, only walk and try to concentrate on where he was going, but the weight and warmth on his arm at his elbow almost caused him to walk into a lamp post or two. It was only her quick thinking and gentle tugs that steered him clear. As they approached Brio's, they'd both become desperately quiet and Al glanced up and watched their reflections in a shop window as they passed.

She only came to his shoulder, she was about the same height as his brother, and her profile betrayed nothing more than her voice at any time, but her fingers on his arm had firm purchase, as if they didn't intend to go anywhere and when they stood at the hostess stand at Brio's, she still did not let go. Only when they were seated on at a nice patio table did she relinquish her hold, and he pulled out her chair and help her get situated before claiming his own seat directly across from her. Menus provided necessary distraction while they both gathered themselves; they also provided opportunities to make subtle overtures to conversation.

“If noodles and meat sauce aren't your fancy,” Al said, lying the menu down and pointing with his finger at a blurb, “their chicken parmesana is also quite wonderful.”

“I am surprised you would know that,” she teased, looking to see where Al was pointing, then finding the corresponding spot on her own menu. “You mean you've actually tried something here that wasn't on the pasta menu?”

“Well, it wasn't me,” Al admitted with a small grin, “it was the Pirate. Do you remember when he came to visit me that time? He insisted I at least _try_ something different. He said I wasn't a very good judge of a restaurant because I only had a limited view of its entire selection. He then lectured me about my eating habits and made me try his chicken parmesana, it was quite good.”

She laughed a little and shook her head.

“You had such a profound effect on him, you effectively pulled his fangs. Everything he worried about was you, and he was content to do it, I think,” she smiled fondly and her eyes trailed the menu. “He was very different in those times and I worried about him, but really I shouldn't have, you kept him well entertained and occupied.”

Al blushed a little and tapped the menu edge with his fingers. When he really thought about it, he could conjure up those memories, the ones he had when he was the new Al, and that seemed a little strange, but they were a part of him and he did remember them and he integrated them into what made him the whole. He could compare now and see the Colonel in contrast to the Pirate, but further conjecture of his almost-father was suspended when the waiter approached the table. They both ordered and both deliberated on a wine selection, Al naturally bowing to her experience in the matter. He was a fan of wine, but never with any discretion, just drinking whatever was set in front of him. She had definite opinions and was never known to drink for the sport of it.

Now that the menus were cleared and the die cast for dinner, it left the two of them looking at each other over the small patio table. If he'd ever known true intimidation of the woman, he was feeling it now. His mind only brought to the forefront his most recent of topics: his experimentations in the lab with Parkerson, but they'd sworn off shop talk and he fumbled around his cranium for a more congenial conversation starter. There was always Ed, but indirectly, Ed might bring up shop talk, so he was shunted aside. Besides, he needed to learn to have meaningful dialogue without his elder brother's exploits to provide them.

She was looking about the patio, studying the many flower pots and striped overhead awning, clearly at her own loss and that, in a way, was comforting to Al. He wasn't as hopeless as he might seem if she too were having troubles with conversation. At last, Al's floundering hit on something they both shared that was fairly safe from shop talk, _(but in reality, part of the shop, there was no denying it)_.

“How has Hayate been?” Al said. “I notice he's been sleeping a lot, I guess that can be chalked up to his age. How old is he now? I seem to remember that you took him in when I was around twelve.”

Riza nodded, putting her elbows on the table and lacing her fingers.

“You're right, I believe Hayate is around eleven. He's been slowing down a bit lately, but that is to be expected,” she said.

Al nodded and groped for further observations, but Riza had other ideas and voiced them.

“I think you should set up your company while you are here, unless you are going to be based out of Central. There are business licenses you'll need to acquire and I don't mind you stopping into the legal department for advice. You'll need to get on the approved vendor list as well. Ah, that's dangerously close to shop talk, isn't it?” she said.

“I think you're right though, I don't see why I need to be based in Central when the bulk of my work will come through East City,” Al said. “It's not quite the same shop talk we've sworn off, so I can over look it,” he grinned.

 _He had such a nice smile and she, for one, was grateful to see it._

She would always remember her shy, tall shadow, because it was a fond memory. When Alphonse had first followed his brother into the Colonel's office, she hadn't know what to think, but even as seven feet of steel, he'd managed to make himself small, the shadow of his older brother's glaring personality. When he first began to follow her around, helping with her filing and shyly speaking to her, she hadn't thought much more of it than just a lonely little boy, despite his brother's intentions. A little boy who had been hurt and was confused and needed someone to talk to; she'd been happy to speak to him, but as each day and their conversation grew, he grew to be more than just Ed's younger brother, more than just a disembodied child's voice trapped in steel. He became Alphonse, her friend, her confidant. His intelligence was astonishing for his age and his compassion was equally so. Riza had always thought of children as selfish, and until Al and Ed came to make Roy's office their home, she had only limited dealings in the matter of children. They were usually those of distant relations of co-workers, easily ignored and their misbehavior internally scoffed at but discarded as unimportant.

Alphonse showed her that in the world of children, there was order and chaos, confusion and pain. There was also love, of which Alphonse was the master. He poured his love onto his brother in ways no adult could comprehend. His immeasurable compassion and sympathy often played over Ed's jangled nerves and he was a balm like no other to the frantic thirteen year old. Riza could see why Ed's life became so entangled in trying to do what was right by Alphonse. The more she knew of him, the more she came to know him, the more she realized he was something to be protected and treasured. People like Alphonse didn't come along every day and while she would not call him fragile, _(though in many ways he was very fragile)_ , she would call him vulnerable, relying only on his wits, his brother and the steel of his armor to hold his place in the world.

Now this older Alphonse intrigued her anew. He was still there, in all the ways she remembered; even when he repeated his life before her, he was still in essence Alphonse, fundamentally unchanged, only floundering a bit without his brother to lean on. He transferred a great deal of his emotional needs to Roy and she was proud of the way Roy responded, given the circumstances. Roy could just have easily turned from the boy, because Alphonse brought him a great deal of pain, inadvertently, she knew. Alphonse was there to show Roy what he had lost and still, he reached out to the boy, loved the boy, cared for the boy in place of his brother, perhaps because he knew this is what his brother would want. It was those times, when she had still thought herself in love with Roy, that she had come to the conclusion that Roy had known true love. She may have disapproved of the standards at first, but Roy had been taught to love, he was applying the lessons Edward left behind.

It was a bit bitter to her at first, but she'd come to terms with it. Later, she'd come to embrace it, because how could she herself deny what was before her eyes? It was lessons for them all.

The wine steward arrived bearing their bottle and they both sniffed the cork appreciatively. She noted the way Alphonse watched her taste the wine, then copy her movements and nod in the same way she did. They were all still learning, Alphonse and Edward still looked to the adults that had dominated their lives for so long for lessons, and they could not be denied.

She would never deny Alphonse anything. If it was in her power to teach him, to give to him, she would do it.

***

They were both surprised and delighted that after the food had been served, then coffee and dessert, that they did indeed have a world of things to talk about: dogs and cats, coffee and flowers, music and books. Why had either of them thought for a moment that not talking shop would be difficult? Their discussion on fiction authors spilled out onto the walk with them and carried them to her front door, where they spent another good ten minutes comparing reading recommendations and a surprising realization that they both liked the strong Ishbahlan coffee that could be found in only one cafe in East City.

“Let's go there tomorrow,” Al said. “After work, of course. We can try some of the pastries too, I understand that dates are wonderful.”

“I would like that,” Riza told him. “If you'd like, we can meet here again.”

“I can come with you from the office,” Al said. “I’ll walk Hayate while you change.”

As if the very mention of him heralded his presence, they both heard a plaintive whine and scratch on the gray door. They looked at each other for a very long moment.

“I'm glad that you are no longer in my command,” she said suddenly. “Though we've always been friends, it's so nice to make a friend of you.”  
 _  
I am always under your command, military not withstanding._

“I feel the same way,” Al returned. “You've been a part of my life for so long, I'm happy that we are still... together.”

“Yes,” she returned simply.

There was no kiss goodnight, no embrace that would carry him until the next day. There was merely her smile and handshake, but it was enough, it was more than enough to send him floating toward his apartment.

It was in this very haze on a street corner near his own place that he met another lady. He was receptive to advances at the moment, his guard worn down and his bliss such that he was vulnerable to seduction. It almost felt like a betrayal of sorts, since he and the Colonel, _(No, Riza)_ had just had such a lovely evening, but she was still not his and he was rather lonely. With a little coaxing, his new lady friend followed him home, made him feel warm with her appreciation and slept that night in his bed.

Al hoped he wasn't easy.


	15. Chapter 15

The SoAB had found themselves a mission which had started innocently enough. After school, Tom Pine helped his dad carry some broken desks to the dumpster. They had been held in storage in the hopes of having them repaired.

“But why are you throwing them away now?” Tom asked his father, who smiled.

“We need space in that storage closet,” Tom was told.

“But won't the school have to buy new desks now?” Tom pressed. “To replace these we are throwing out?”

“Well I suppose,” the elder Pine said, “but it's not my place to point that. I just do what the head of maintenance tells me.”

“Alchemy could fix these,” Tom said resolutely to which his father raised an eyebrow.

The Professor now had eleven broken desks in the back of his classroom and a group of determined Society of Alchemic Brotherhood members ready to accost him after class.

***

“This is your club project,” the Professor informed them, “so it's up to you to work out the array and get the extra materials, like screws. I'm only here so you can use the room after classes.”

But of course the Professor couldn't keep his nose out of anything, therefore they were all sitting on their knees, _(Professor included)_ , after having pushed all the good desks to the side. Seth had started the array; it was fairly large since they were going to have to put desk pieces into it. Daniel had lectured about the need for the wood element symbol and Boyd had drawn it in what they assumed was the appropriate place. The Professor's jaw was very tight and they all kept looking at him, waiting for him to butt in. He must have sensed this because he was being uncannily quiet and cleared his throat a lot whenever one of them wrote something on the array.

“Okay, I think we have everything,” Daniel said, setting his textbook aside. “Let's get a desk.”

“Screws,” the Professor said, then studied his gloved fingers as if he'd said nothing.

“I'll get some,” Tom offered. “My dad said we could have some from the maintenance department, I'll go get them.” The boy stood and brushed chalk dust off his knees, looked toward the door and raised his eyebrows. Then he grinned and threw his hand in the air.

“Hi Prince Ling,” Tom said cheerfully.

The rest of the group gave themselves whiplash, turning their heads, _(the Professor included),_ and there stood the Xingian Prince in black silk and good humor.

“Hello,” the Prince returned, throwing up his own hand. He side stepped smoothly to allow Tom to slip out the door, then his gaze settled back on the group and the Professor in particular.

“You haven't been around for lunch,” Ed said and startled himself. It wasn't _what the hell are you doing here?_ or _what the hell do you want?_ like normal. Instead it was just an innocuous acknowledgement that the Prince's absence had been noted. There were no curse words attached, which was how he usually addressed the Prince.

It had been almost a week since he'd seen Ling, in the bathroom of General Culpepper's home. Ed mentally winced a little, remembering the sound of steel striking a flesh palm. He must be bruised to the bone and that drove the Professor to stand.

“Don't let me interrupt,” the Prince said cheerfully, then blinked as the Professor strode toward him.

“I'm going into the hall,” the Professor told the group, “don't transmute anything until I come back.”

“Well then hurry,” Daniel said. “We only got another half hour.”

The Professor gave him a look, grabbed the Prince's elbow which caused the Prince to give him a look, and herded the man outside the door, pulling it closed behind them.

“Okay, straight to the point,” the Professor said, “because I don't have a lot of time. How is your hand?”

“My hand?” the Prince echoed, looking confused.

“Your hand,” the Professor demanded, “you know, the one I hit... argh...” Ed grabbed Ling's arm then and slid his hand own to the wrist. The Prince obliged him, opening his hand palm up and Ed released his wrist to cup the back of Ling's hand with his own. He curled his thumb and fingers over it to steady it and it looked fine. Ed wasn't sure if he was seeing the edges of a fading bruise or not.

“We're holding hands,” the Prince said. “In my country...”

Ed sputtered and yanked his hand away, scowling.

“Keep your country in your country,” the told Ling's smirking face. “I just wanted to see if your hand was okay, because I hit it and I shouldn't have and I'm... sorry.”

The grin on the Prince's face softened at the edges and he bowed his head slightly.

“I too am sorry, in some ways I feel your ire was my fault,” he said.

“In a lot of ways it usually is,” Ed told him, “but it wasn't then. That was different and I shouldn't have taken it out on you. You were only trying to help... I guess. But yeah, um, thanks for that.”

  
The Prince actually opened his eyes, raised an eyebrow and turning his grin into more of a smile.

“You're welcome,” he said graciously. “Does this mean we are going to be friends?”

“I suppose we'll have to be,” Ed said, mouth flat, hands on hip, “because no matter how hard I try, I sure as hell can't get rid of you.”

“This fills my heart. I'll let you take me to lunch tomorrow,” the Prince said, grin returning in full force.

“Gee, thanks,” Ed sneered.

“We’ll go for that dish you like so well,” the Prince continued, “the one with the red meat sauce and the noodles not made of rice.”

“Okay,” Ed said with guarded optimism, “but we can't linger at the restaurant long because I have an appointment tomorrow afternoon.”

“Oh?” the Prince inquired.

“You're not going, so forget it. We'll have lunch and then I'll leave,” Ed said and pointed at Ling.

Tom appeared then, carrying a box of screws, and looked up at the two adults as he opened the classroom door.

“Professor!” Daniel's voice carried to him from the crack in the door before Tom shut it behind him, causing Ed to turn and look.

“I have to go,” Ed said turning back, but Ling was already gone. Ed sighed, opened the classroom door and went back in. He resumed his seat on his knees to one side of the circle and watched the boys load one of the broken desks into it, carefully counting the missing screws and adding them as well.

“What you smiling for?” Daniel asked, scooting a bit closer to the Professor as Seth readied to lead the transmutation.

Edward didn't know really, or maybe he did. He looked at the assembled boys, all ready for him to show them how to transmute broken desks. That was enough to make him smile, he thought. All these boys were his friends even though he couldn't tell them that; you aren't supposed to make friends with your students. But now he had another friend, one that wasn't handed to him in the hopes of distracting him. Or maybe he was really in a way, but friendship probably hadn't been on the General's mind.

Ed had a friend he'd made himself. That shouldn't be counted as too great an accomplishment because people did it everyday, but he didn’t and he had, so it was. Ling was on the _outside_ , not someone Ed had grown up around, not someone Ed had learned from or looked to. He was just a friend, it was as simple as that.

“Is it so strange for me to smile?” the Professor asked Daniel.

“Well sort of,” Daniel said. “I mean you smile, but you know, it's different.”

“Leave the Professor alone,” Seth said, “He was smiling because his friend was here, let's transmute this desk!”

Yeah, he was smiling because his friend was here. He laid his hands on the circle with everyone else and let Seth make a desk.

***

“I've got to call Al,” Ed half moaned when Roy's lips found his neck. The General gave a mild rumble, his lips traveled lower and Ed squirmed against him, trapped between a chest and the back of the couch.

“Roooyyy, let me call Al, and then... ah... and then...” Ed's mouth was silenced by Roy's own and Ed's fingers dug into Roy's shirt. He was trying to scoot to the end of the couch and was also trying to bring his flesh foot up to gently push Roy off, but the General wasn't a strategist for nothing and each coup that Ed attempted, was efficiently blocked.

“If I don't call Al now... you'll drag me off to bed and I won't get to… ah... ah... call him,” Ed whined.

“You say that like it's a bad thing,” the General murmured from the recesses of Ed's neck.

“It is and it isn't, I call Al every night,” Ed complained. “You're making me late, uh... please?”

Ah, defeat. The General unburied himself from his lover's neck, but ran his hands down Ed's body before leaning back. Ed sighed and sat forward, risking a kiss to the General's chin before squirming away quickly and getting up, heading for the den. R.D. decided to join him.

“What, you're leaving me too?” the General directed at the little terrier, causing him to pause in the archway of the living room door as Ed went into the hall. R.D. trembled in indecision and the General grinned. The little dog was an endless source of amusement, as was Ed's endless denial of affection for him. After a moment or two’s hesitation, R.D. ran back over the Roy and danced up on his hind feet, placing his paws on Roy's knee. He was rewarded by being picked up, cuddled and scratched.

***

“You're late,” Alphonse said, picking up the phone receiver and settling in the chair next to his phone stand. Sofia eyed him from the doorway between the kitchen and living room.

“Sorry,” Ed said, “I got distracted. You know the routine questions,” Al's elder brother said.

“I'm fine, I'm eating well, the City is the same, the weather is lovely,” Al told him. “You should see the park, the spring flowers are coming in.”

“Sometimes I really miss it,” Ed sighed into the phone. “Okay, I think I've given you enough time to figure out whatever is it was you had to leave to fix. When are you coming back?”

“Well,” Al said slowly, eyeing Sofia as she made her way slowly into the living room and across the floor to him, “there's a new complication.”

“What would that be?” Ed groaned. “Why is it every time I think we're going to get some time together, things come up?”

“It's life,” Al said cheerfully, “but I have this new lady friend and I can't just up and leave her so quickly...” Al started.

“Lady friend?” his brother cut him off. “What lady friend? Do I know her? Where did you meet her?”

Ah, here we go. Al narrowed his eyes. Always the third degree from Ed. It was amusing, warming and downright annoying. Alphonse was only a year younger than his brother _despite_ appearances and Ed seemed to want to think, on their whole journey, Alphonse had been oblivious to the things happening around him. Ed had it in his head that only he was the veritable harbinger of all memories dark and gloomy, and that somehow he'd miraculously shielded Al from any need to mature. Ed of course would make all the decisions, no matter how many times he caved in, he at least had to try. Why Al's love life was such a major concern, Al would never know.

“No, you don't know her,” Al said smoothly. “I only met her a couple of days ago myself. She was on the street and we ran into each other. She needed a place to go and I was feeling a bit lonely, so she came home with me.” Al studied his nails.

“You met her on the street?” Ed half hissed. “Doing what on the street?”

“She was very solicitous,” Al said. “At first she was a little hesitant, but after a little petting she followed me right home,” he said. “We got to know each other a little over a drink and then we went to bed.” Al listened to his brother's quickening breath over the phone.

“Alphonse,” Ed grated out. “I know that you are an age to like girls, but I was under the assumption you had your sights set a little higher. Is she gone now? You won't see her again?” Ed pressed.

“No, she's not gone, she's here right now as a matter of fact,” Al said, “watching me talk to you on the phone. I think she's a little jealous, she likes having me all to her self and I find I rather like that about her.”

“She's still there?” Ed squawked. “Alphonse,” he lowered his voice to a conspirator whisper, as if he could be heard over the receiver in the first place, “I know we've never had a talk about women, I was rather hoping that you and Roy had a talk about women since you two seem to talk about that sort of thing occasionally.”

“Talk about women?” Al said, trying hard to suppress the grin in his voice. “Brother, I'm not sure you're the one to talk about women with, I don't think you've had a lot of practical experience.”

“What do you mean?” Ed said, catching movement out of the corner of his eye and seeing Roy leaning in the doorway. “I've had plenty of experience; I know a lot of women.”

“I'm not saying you don't know them,” Al said, then shifted and resettled as Sofia climbed into his lap and made herself comfortable, “I know you have many acquaintances who are women. I mean... Brother, I mean intimately. You don't have any experience as far as I know… you're... how you are.”

“How I am?” Ed said slowly.

“You're gay,” Al supplied helpfully. “There's nothing wrong with it, in fact I quite envy the relationship you have with the General at times. I mean, I know we are close and all, but that kind of relationship....

“I’m not GAY!” Ed howled into the phone. “What is this? Some conspiracy between you and Winry?! She said the same thing! I'm not gay, why on earth would you think I was gay?” Ed stressed.

“Sleeping with the General tends to be a dead giveaway,” Al said into the phone, his amusement getting the better of him. “Brother, I'm just saying that perhaps you're not the best person to be dispensing advice when it comes to my dealings with the opposite sex.”

“How do you define gay?” Ed continued. “I've seen gay people, I don't act like that, and sleeping with Roy doesn't count,” he growled.

“Why doesn't it count?” Al asked. “The General is a man, you know.”

“He's not a man,” Ed snapped, and then saw Roy's eyebrow quirk very high and his mouth turn down at one side. “No, I don't mean it like that!” he called across the room.

“Then how do you mean it?” the General asked, hands on hips.

Alphonse started laughing and Ed tried his best to make his scowl an audible thing.

“Look you,” Ed snarled, “you're trying to turn this conversation away from the original subject and that was _you_ , my own little brother, consorting with women of questionable character.” Ed nodded too, like Al could see that.

“You really whip out the formal when you think you need to lecture me,” Al said. “I tell you what, she's here on my lap right now, I'll let you speak to her.” Alphonse removed the receiver from his ear and gently laid it on the purring belly of the long haired calico cat in his lap. Sofia, for that is the name he'd given her, looked at it, sniffed at it, gave Al a disinterested look and then looked away. Al slowly lifted the receiver back to his ear.

“Did she purr loud enough for you?” he asked his huffing brother.

“Alphonse Elric,” Edward Elric said, “since when have you become such a brat?”

“Since my elder brother decided he was my mom,” Al returned and held the receiver away from his ear a bit. After Ed had calmed down, he tried again.

“Do you really think so low of me?” Al asked.

“It's not that,” Ed said, “I just think that sometimes you are too nice to people and they take advantage of you. I was also shocked because well, you told me you liked someone else.” Ed glanced again in Roy's direction, then made shooing motions at the man with his hand. Roy gave him a disgruntled look that clearly said they were going to discuss this _not a man_ thing further, but left the room.

“That's going great by the way,” Al gushed over the phone. “Last night we went for dinner at Brio's.”

“Brio's,” Ed moaned. “I miss Brio's.”

“When you come to visit me, we'll go there,” Al inserted, “but nevermind that. Tonight we went to this little exotic cafe that had Ishbahlan coffee and date cookies and then we sat in the park for a while listening to a trio play on the park stage.”

“Okay, so you're going out,” Ed said. “Like on dates?”

“I would think that yes, the term date should apply, but somehow I don't think the Colonel thinks it does,” Al said and sighed. “She calls it going out with her friend, and that is fine. I guess it's fine. It's not fine. Ed,” Al said frankly, “I'm at a loss. Is the Pirate hanging around, I need some advice.”

“What? No I sent him out of the room, he's so freaking nosy,” Ed complained. “Why can't I give you advice? Have you tried to kiss her yet? Has she tried to kiss you? I think that's a bit strange kissing Hawkeye,” Ed rubbed the side of his nose.

“No, but kissing Colonel Mustang was perfectly logical,” Al said. “You're no help, let me speak to Roy.”

“Yeah okay fine,” Ed said, “run to Roy. After all, what do I know right?”

“Stop being so obstinate about it,” Al said. “We made him a part of this family and I for one want to tap into the resources. He used to date women before you ruined him.”

“ _I_ ruined _him_?” Ed gaped into the phone receiver. “You have no idea what you're talking about, I was a normal hormone-addled teenager before he decided to get all touchy-feely, thank you. You know I thought about _marrying_ a girl once,” Ed said before he quite knew what he was saying.

“Like Winry would have you,” Al said, because he didn't know. Ed found relief in that until he realized he'd been insulted.

“That's not what Winry said,” Ed parried. “Look, that is all besides the point,” Winry made Ed feel guilty in unreasonable ways.

“Fine, I'll just call him at the office,” Al said. “Once again, you can entirely hog a conversation proclaiming your concern while running road blocks. You amaze me. You know, there are other people out there qualified to help me out, Brother. You've done your share.”

“You're my brother,” Ed started sounding hurt.

“Yes, and I thank all of creation for it, but Ed, it's okay to look after yourself now and let me do the same,” Al cajoled.

“I'm slow on the uptake,” Ed said wryly.

“It's okay,” Al said cheerfully. “We all love you for it.”

***

Roy was sitting up in bed with R.D. in his lap looking over the news digest when Ed ventured into the bedroom.

“Here you are,” Ed exclaimed. “I thought you'd be in the living room listening to music or something, are we going to bed now?”

“I wouldn't know, you're the man, you tell me,” Roy said.

Ed hung his head back, trudged across the room and just fell face first onto the bed near Roy's feet.

“Please don't torture me for that,” Ed said muffled by the comforter. “I didn't mean it like it sounded,” Ed raised his head and glared in Roy's direction. “Look, I just like sex with you. I mean, I don't think it matters about you being a man, it's just you. I don't look at other men and think about having sex with them, I don't look at women and think about having sex with them. I look at you and think about having sex with you a lot.”

Roy's smile grew into something other than a smile and Ed moaned at that too, burying his face back into the comforter.

“We need to make your ego closet space,” Ed said, muffled again and raised his head again when Roy shifted on the bed. The General stood and carried R.D. to the door, set him in the hallway, shut the door after he did so and turned to smile at Ed.

“That's really flattering,” the General purred, “that you think about sex with me a lot.”

Ed felt his cheeks heat up and he pushed up on the bed, climbing up onto it and turning to sit and look at Roy as he walked back over and sat next to him. Roy placed his hand over Ed's on the bed between them.

“I know what you meant,” Roy said. “You defy definitions, so I think it's a little unkind of your brother to tease you with a classification, especially one definitely have some preconceived notions about,” Roy grinned when Ed wrinkled his nose. Roy threaded his fingers through Ed's and lifted his hand, bringing Ed's fingers to his lips.

Ed watched as Roy pressed his lips to Ed's knuckles and just that tiny gesture made him immensely warm. It was true, everything he'd said to Al. Roy was the only person that made him think of sex. From the moment he'd first tried to puzzle out what sex meant, to this very moment sitting on the bed beside his lover; It was just Roy. Roy turned his hand over then and kissed the inside of Ed's wrist, then slowly down the inside of Ed's arm. His dark eye rose to catch Ed's and Roy slowly licked the crease of Ed's elbow, who swallowed and squirmed just a bit.

“You know,” Roy said lowly, “when I think about sex, I think about you a lot too. The way you look splayed out in the sheets with your hair loose over the pillow, the way you smell, like after a shower, the way you smell after we've made love, the way you taste, the way you moan.”

Ed offered him one then, a small, involuntary moan as Roy's lips left the ticklish area of his inner elbow and traveled his arm to his shoulder. Ed still had on his shirt but he could feel the heat of Roy's mouth through it.

“I even think about the way your automail smells of oil,” Roy husked. “The way it glints if we have the bedside light on while I'm pulling your clothes off,” and as he said it, he reached down, caught Ed's shirt and began to raise it. “There is nothing about you that doesn't make me think of you in this bed beneath me, letting me touch you, love you.”

Ed's eyes had gone half mast. He helped Roy remove his shirt, then dug his fingers into Roy's own shirt who smiled, releasing Ed and sitting back, letting Ed help him take his shirt off.

It was only natural the rest of the clothing followed and then Ed was halfway lifted, turned and laid into the pillows on his side. His lover's warm hand skated his body, around to his back, cupped his butt and drew him close. His bare stomach touched Roy's bare stomach and it sent a tiny electric shock through him, but Roy continued to pull on him. Roy pushed his leg between Ed's and then Ed could feel Roy's cock on the inside of his thigh with his own cock resting against Roy's. It made him throw his arm over Roy's waist and dig his fingers into Roy's back, who gave him a lovely moan as well. Roy bent his head and tilted his forehead against Ed's.

“This is Sunday morning stuff,” Ed said softly, “when we just like to lie around and touch each other.”

“Ummm,” Roy purred. “I like Sunday mornings too. Nothing pressing at all, it means I get to lie in bed with the man I love and make him feel good. He lets me touch his gorgeous body and do what I want,” Roy kissed across Ed's forehead.

“Well yeah... me too,” Ed said with a smile and what Roy knew was faint embarrassment. Ah yes, thank you maker. Edward was twenty-four now, but still, oh still, he had kept traces of the fifteen year old that once graced Roy's bed. Roy tilted his head further down and pushed his nose against Ed's, but Ed turned his face suddenly and tilted it up, and that was when Roy felt his eye patch move. Ed lipped the edge of it, then brought his hand up slowly, gently curling it around Roy's head, snagging his fingers in the strap. Nothing was said as he eased it up Roy's skull, trying to be careful of his hair. Nothing was said as he pulled it free and tossed it casually over his shoulder.

“Much better,” his younger lover said softly. Ed's lips then traveled the ruined side of Roy's face. Roy could feel them in places, but not in others. It was alright, he knew they were there. He tried to pull Ed even closer, working small circles with his fingers on Ed's back as Ed kissed over the bridge of his nose and to his other cheek, then down to his lips, where he nudged them gently. Roy parted his lips and Ed took the invitation, Roy brushing his tongue against Ed's, closing his lips and sucking a bit as Ed allowed. Ed squirmed closer, as if it was possible, and Ed's flesh hand ran up and down Roy's side, then over to his back and down to his butt. Now Ed was doing the pulling and he was trying to be sneaky, but Roy knew that the beginnings of the bump and grind were being played out, so Roy started them off, very slowly. His hips moved forward, he pressed them and moved them in a languid circle against Ed's.

Ed made a soft sound into his mouth and turned his face, breaking the kiss. His fingers pressed hard into Roy's butt and then he too began to move very slowly.

“This is you,” Roy said softly to him, “this is all my memories and all my fantasies. This need you have to rub against me; sometimes I think I felt you in my dreams. Ed, I never knew what I was missing until you came along to show me. I never thought of making a place in my life for someone else until you walked in and demanded room,” Roy raised his hand to tangle and tug in long blond hair. “You're a gift to me, when I think of everything I went through, you're like my reward. If I think about it hard enough, I think you saved me from myself.”

“That's backwards,” Ed said quietly. “Or maybe we saved each other.”

Roy half turned, snatching the bottle off the bedside table. Ed helpfully held it as Roy oiled up his fingers, then slid his hand between their bodies. Ed gasped when slick fingers closed over his cock, already full and at attention. Still, they moved together, the back of Roy's hand rising up against Ed's stomach with every lazy thrust. Roy tunneled his hand over Ed's cock and began to slide and tug it up and down in time to their thrusts. Ed wrapped his hand around Roy's, seeking to steal the heated oil, then his own hand found Roy's cock and together they squeezed and pulled, but it wasn't hurried. Roy drew up the arm he was laying on, bent it and laid his cheek on it, dark eye studying Ed's face, mouth a lazy smile.

Ed returned the look, his eyes moving side to side, his mouth not smiling but not frowning, then his lips parted for a soft moan.

“So beautiful, Ed,” Roy said.

“You too,” Ed said and Roy could tell it was a struggle for him not to drop his eyes and look away, but he was grown now. He let go of Roy and tugged on Roy's own hand even though he moaned lowly a little in denial when he was released, pulling Roy's hand from between them and pressing it onto his hip. Roy smiled softly and obliged him, running his slick fingers over Ed's hip and down to his butt, where he stroked him gently in the cleft before pressing a finger inside. Ed moaned and mouthed Roy's throat frantically for a few moments, then Roy slid in the second finger and began to move them slowly.

“Faster,” Ed begged and Roy ignored him. “More... Roy...” Ed sobbed and Roy did only what he wanted to do. Ed thrust his cock against Roy's lower stomach and slid his arm under to curl his hand over Roy's shoulder and shake him.

“Please,” Ed sobbed, his trump card.

Roy withdrew his fingers and Ed cried out, sliding his automail arm under Roy so both of his hands were on Roy's back, pulling. Ed then threw his leg up and over Roy's hip, who scooted down, thrusting his hips forward, positioning and guiding himself slowly inside of his lover. Ed was shaking all over, gasping softly and his fingers, flesh and otherwise, pressed almost painfully into Roy's back, but Roy didn't move more than to bury himself deeply, he just wrapped his own arms around Ed and held on tight.

Ed began to shift, but Roy just held him and Ed finally settled down, panting slightly.

“It's hard to be still,” Ed said, voice a tremor. “I want to move,” he wheedled. “It feels good,” he bribed.

“I know,” Roy said with a smile, but he did nothing more than lie there.

After another few moments, Ed moved again, lifting his hand and trying to push it between their bodies. Roy caught his hand despite Ed's weak protest and laced fingers with him, holding their clasped hands on Ed's hip.

“Roy, I want to move,” Ed tried again. “Let me touch you, let me touch me. Roy, fuck me,” Ed pleaded.

“What's the hurry?” Roy said huskily. “Just being inside you is enough to make me thank god I'm alive,” he teased. “Don't you like it, Ed? Won't the anticipation make it so much better when I do this...” Roy thrust once and Ed threw his head back, groaning loudly.

“Do that more,” Ed said raggedly, “more and more, Roy...” Ed tilted his head down, his breath deepening. Then he seemed to set his jaw and he _squeezed_ , causing Roy's eye to widened as he let out his own groan.

“More,” Ed whispered and tightened again. Roy's brow furrowed, his eye closed and he thrust, giving an almost helpless sound.

“Don't stop,” Ed commanded and Roy nodded once, releasing Ed's hand in favor of gripping Ed's hip.

“Love you, fucking love you, love this,” Ed growled, pressing his face into Roy's throat, his own hand moving to Roy's hip to tug and encourage.

“Ed,” Roy growled and then rolled, pushing Ed onto his back and moving up between his legs; Ed half yelled encouragements as he wrapped his legs over the back of Roy's, arching his back.

It was just heat and rhythm and their voices mingling. Ed's hands found their way to Roy's ass and he pulled hard, opening his mouth on Roy's shoulder and sobbing against it. Roy shoved up on his hands, his arms shaking, arching his own back as if to get deeper as they rocked there, hard and steady for long moments. Then Ed half shrieked and Roy cried out as Ed bore down and came against Roy's stomach. It wasn't long after that, with Ed gasping breathless encouragements and still moving to Roy's last desperate thrusts. Roy climaxed, sagged and was pulled against Ed's own heaving chest as Ed's hand stroked over his head and neck, making small pleased sounds. Roy nuzzled him and Ed grinned and half laughed, then Roy withdrew slowly and rolled to the side.

Ed rolled with him, pushing up against his chest and they lay like that for awhile, catching their breath, holding each other.

Roy eventually tugged the sheet up and tucked it around Ed, who was more or less purring against his chest, and Roy couldn't resist dropping kisses over his ear and along his jaw. He then realized Ed's hair was still in it's ponytail and reached back to free it.

“You take such good care of me,” Ed said in his spent, gravely voice.

“It's a job with a lot of perks,” Roy told him, stroking his fingers through Ed's freed hair. “I wouldn't give it up for the world.”

“Not likely to get fired either,” Ed said sleepily.

“Good,” the General chuckled, “because I have a lot of years invested in the end product.”

Ed tilted his face up to look at him, giving a half grin.

“Up to specs?” Ed said, “Not going to trade me in for a newer model?”

“I have news for you, you are the newer model,” Roy told him. “Funny how that works, the older you get, the newer you are.”

Ed's grin slid into a half smile and he hitched himself up to kiss his General.

 

**

 

The Prince had a sucker in his mouth and he strolled along at Ed’s side like he had not a care in the world, twirling the stick and occasionally pulling it out of his mouth to contemplate it before sticking it back in.

“I think I remember specifically telling you that you weren't coming with me,” Ed said, looking at him sidelong and trying to pretend he wasn't with the prince even though they were walking side by side.

“Umm, cherry,” the prince said, pulling the sucker out of his mouth again. “I'm not coming with you, we are merely going the same way.”

“That is what you said two blocks ago and I made two fake turns to test the theory,” Ed informed him, “you're following me.”

“Ah, guilty as charged,” the prince admitted freely once he'd been found out. He stuck the sucker back in his mouth and then clasped his hands behind his back, letting it freeform hang there.

“You're impossible,” Ed grumbled. “If you do anything to mess up this interview, I'll kill you. I really want this man to be in the exhibition, he's got an impressive record.”

Ling looked at Ed, tilted his head and quirked an eyebrow.

“He's done some very humanitarian things,” Ed said, “like purifying water supplies and developing revolutionary irrigation techniques.”

Ling unclasped his hands and popped the sucker out of his mouth.

“Very helpful, but exceedingly dull,” was the prince's opinion.

“He changed the course of a river,” Ed said. “He held back floodwaters once until a proper structure could be erected... he's made water dragons,” he finished, looking to the side.

Ling twirled the sucker in his fingers and smiled.

“Water dragons? Like sculptures?” the prince asked cheerfully.

“Yes, I've seen pictures,” Ed said, “I figured he kids would like them.”

“You like them too,” Ling nodded, returning the sucker to his mouth.

“So?” Ed said, then fished the address out of his pocket again, slowing. He double checked it to the mailboxes on the street and looked up at a two story gingerbread-type dwelling. It was fanciful and done in colors not quite corresponding with the rest of the street. It had decorative trim and railings, and shutters with adornments. There was a neat little fence enclosing the front yard with a gate and the lawn was immaculately trimmed and adorned with small statuary.

Ling pulled the sucker out of his mouth with an audible pop.

“This house is purple and pink,” Ling observed. Then he stuck the sucker back in his mouth.

“A fat lot you know,” Ed said, “that's not purple and pink.” He turned toward the prince. Ling put his hands behind his back again and slowly rotated the sucker stick in his mouth to the 'up' position.

“It's burgundy,” Ed said and bent his head forward a bit, “and that would be... mauve.”

The sucker stick in the prince's mouth went to the 'down' position.

“What the fuck does it matter anyway,” Ed growled, pushing open the gate. “You should talk, you're wearing purple too!”

Ling pulled the sucker out long enough to say, “This is plum!” helpfully before sticking the sucker back in.

“Shut the fuck up,” Ed snarled heading up the walk. “I'm warning you, one stupid remark out of you...” Ed turned around and drew his fingers across his throat. As he did so, some of the small stone statues on the lawn caught his attention and he slowed to a stop.

Ling stopped behind him and they both studied the sculpture for a moment. It appeared to be two children, but not quite. They had pointed ears and small stone wings that were mosaics covered in tile. They were barely wearing anything and if you looked hard enough, they almost looked to be playing leap frog... almost. Ed and Ling looked at each other slowly.

“I'm sure that's not what we think it is,” Ed said hastily. “I mean, there are a thousand different interpretations in art, if this is art, and you wouldn't put something like that on your lawn for people to see.”

Ling bounced his sucker stick up and down in his mouth, hands still clasped behind his back.

“Well you wouldn't, unless you do it in your country,” Ed said, eyes narrowing a bit.

Ling moved the sucker stick from one side of his mouth to the other and looked sidelong at Ed.

“I am never setting foot in Xing,” Ed informed him, then continued up the walk. Ling fell into step behind him and hopped up the steps onto the porch, but rolled his eyes innocently when Ed turned to glare at him.

The door was big and oak with three small windows placed along the top. It had a heavy brass door handle, curved in a delicate arch outward as if inviting the visitor to clasp it. There seemed to be no doorbell, but in the middle of the door, eye-high, _(to everyone but Ed)_ , was a large, ornate, brass door knocker. At least it appeared to be a door knocker, or would be a door knocker if it were on a normal door. It was shaped like a mermaid, or presumably a mermaid, the kind that adorned the bow of large pirate ships in many a child's tale. She was very well endowed and didn't bother to hide it, instead thrusting her chest proudly forward, perked and alert, and she had a rather come-hither look to her eyes that belied the serene smile on her face. Ed cast about for the doorbell again.

Ling pointed at the mermaid's chest, but Ed shook his head and scowled, studying the doorframe hard as if the bell would magically appear by sheer mental force alone.

Ling pointed again, jiggling the sucker stick up and down, and Ed looked at his finger, then at the brass mermaid and frowned.

“That's just for ornamentation,” Ed said, “it doesn't even have a big ring to act as the actual knocker,” he told the prince.

Ling withdrew the sucker from his mouth with one hand and reached forward with the other, placing his fingertip right over a pert nipple and pressing. The sound of loud chimes filled the porch, starting high and ending low, then high again for just a moment. The tones lingered even after the prince pulled his finger back.

“How was I to know that was the bell?” Ed grumbled.

“You're afraid to touch them, aren't you?” the prince grinned and Ed whirled on him. “No wonder you sleep with the General; it's a real shame, they are a lot of fun.”

Just as Ed turned scarlet and opened his mouth to grind the prince's bones with the sheer force of his retort, there was the sound of a lock being turned and a latched being opened. He took a deep breath, tried to murder Ling with his eyes and then turned around and subdued himself. The man who opened the door was an older gentlemen and he seemed to blink in surprise at Ed and Ling standing there on his porch. His hair was white and immaculately styled, and he was dressed sharply in what looked to be an indigo, crushed velvet vest over an arrow-collared, white, starched shirt and dark slacks. Ed and Ling blinked back at him owlishly and the man broke into a delighted smile.

“Please tell me,” he said, his voice smooth and light, “that one of you fine young gentlemen is Professor Elric.”

At first Ed wasn't sure he wanted to answer, but Ling elbowed him and Ed cleared his throat and smiled.

“That would be me,” Ed said and offered his own smile. “We were told you would be expecting us... well, that is, me,” Ed glanced at Ling again. “Your niece who works with General Mustang's office referred us?”

“She did indeed and you will have to remind me before you leave to write her into my will,” Otto Dunbar said. “Come in, come in, no need to waste such fine scenery on the front porch.”

Ling had to get behind Ed and push him through the doorway bodily.

***

Ed kept having to grab Ling's sleeve and pull him along. The long hallway of the house was adorned with many interesting prints, many of which Ed tried hard to ignore, but the Prince had other ideas and would stop to admire them along the way, until finally Mr. Dunbar showed them into a large sitting room. It was furnished in heavy, dark furniture, all ornately carved and upholstery-soaked. There was a large collection of artwork adorning the walls in this room as well, along with many interesting figures and carved lamps. Two very nubile young men, extremely naked, were intertwined in polished marble, grins firmly in place as they vied to hold aloft a large, glass lamp shade. Ed once again had to be edged into the room by the Prince's hand on his back and Otto smiled pleasantly, indicating the sitting area. An armrest couch with a rounded back sat facing two equally curvy armchairs from across a glass-topped coffee table. The table’s base was black and also seemed to be naked young men delighted to be holding their burden aloft.

Ed edged over to one of the chairs, perched right on the edge of it and fisted his hands on his knees, plastering a smile on his face, _(even if it was a bit strained)_. The Prince approached the couch and smoothed himself as if to sit elegantly, _(as elegantly as one can sit with a sucker stick protruding from one's lips)_ , but on the way down, he dropped the pretense and sprawled, still managing to do it gracefully. Otto clapped his hands together once and then opted to sit on the couch with Ling, _(much to Ed's dire relief)_.

It hit Ed then, _(right in the forehead because really that was the only way to get his true attention)_ , that he had not yet introduced Ling. And here he was worrying about the Prince's manners.

“This is Prince Ling Yao, of Xing,” Ed said, gesturing with his hand. “I hope you don't mind his accompanying me,” it was odd to feel so relieved that for once he was appreciative of the Prince's tenacity.

“A real Prince,” Otto almost cooed. “Why heavens no, why would I be offended, I'm very honored to make your acquaintance, your highness,” He got back to his feet and half bowed to Ling, who merely pulled the sucker from his mouth and bowed his head.

“It is our honor to be so welcomed,” Ling said imperiously, then grinned. “I used the royal honorifics just for you.”

“Well, I am just beside myself,” Otto said, and took his seat again. “Are you a good friend of the Professor's?”

Ling didn't reply, instead he stuck the sucker back in his mouth and both he and Otto turned to look at Ed, perched like a frightened squirrel in a massive armchair.

“He's an acquaintance that I've come across in my line of work,” Ed said, nose tilting upwards. “My official capacity is that of 'cultural liaison'.”

“Well, you've certainly shown him the delights of the Amestris confectionary,” Otto said.

Ling wiggled his eyebrows and clasped the sucker stick, making a few quick in and out motions with it.

“I apologize,” Ed grated out, “for the prince's obsession with a child's sweet. I didn't give it to him and he invited himself along.”

Ling grinned around his sucker and Ed stiffened as Ling's eyelid slid slowly down, but he checked it at the last moment, not quite making it a wink.

“He seems to be enjoying it, who are we to judge? Different cultures and the like. May I offer you a drink, Professor?” Mr. Dunbar stood again. He was a thin man, seemingly straight up and down, and his hands were small, almost delicate. He gestured at a small mahogany bar as he approached it.

“It's late enough in the afternoon to enjoy a few tipples before dinner,” the man continued. “What is your pleasure? Cognac? Whiskey? Perhaps a cordial?”

Ed's stomach did a roll at the last utterance. It still impressed Ed that all these years later his stomach still held a grudge for one mischief-filled day with his brother and an absent Colonel.

Ling popped the sucker out of his mouth and called cheerfully, “Cherry cordial?”

“Of course your highness, nothing but the best after all,” Otto moved behind the bar and brought up some glasses from beneath it.

“Not for me, thank you,” Ed said. “I'm not much for liqueurs.” Well, that wasn't quite the truth, it's just they weren't much for him.

“I have wine,” Otto further offered.

Ed smiled and shook his head.

“He likes juice,” Ling supplied. “He's very moderate for someone with such a fine ego. I suppose it could be admirable in the right settings.”

Ed glared at Ling, gritting his teeth to keep from responding. Otto rubbed his chin, then smiled and nodded.

“I've cranberry, will that suit? You know, temperance isn't something to be mocked, there are many times in my own life I wish I'd known the meaning of the word,” Otto said.

“Cranberry is fine,” Ed said tightly, trying to issue death threats to the Prince with his eyes, but Ling kept his eyes on their host and stuck the sucker back in his mouth.

Otto came back with the drinks and Ed got to his feet to accept his, but the Prince just held up his hand, all lazy indifference, and Otto once again took the seat next to Ling, with Ed sitting back down as well.

“Such learned and esteemed company,” Otto said, taking a sip of his own drink and crossing his legs. “Of what use could I possibly be to the FullMetal Alchemist? He is, without a doubt, the paramount of our very profession. Now he educates the future leaders of our country and puts his knowledge to very much use, while I myself languish away my waning years in literature, the fine arts and any other sort of hedonistic indulgence I can find.”

Ling popped the sucker out of his mouth and grinned. “You should be a prince,” he supplied before inserting the sucker again.

Otto smiled and tipped his glass toward Ling who leaned forward to tip his own glass back. The glasses clinked merrily and both men took a sip after they'd pulled back.

“Um,” Ed said, “I thought your niece mentioned the exhibition?”

“Oh yes that's right, an exhibition for the Academy,” Otto waved his hand in front of his face and took another sip of his drink. “The chance to mold the minds of fine young men,” he said and looked at the Prince.

The Prince liberated the sucker from his mouth again.

“It's an excellent opportunity to show the next generation how it's done,” Ling said. “They could use all the experience they could get. The Professor's lot is especially malleable at the moment, like little sponges. It's his superior teaching techniques you see,” back into the mouth the sucker went and the eyes of the prince's trailed across the coffee table to rest on said Professor.

“I read an article on your water sculpting techniques,” Ed forged ahead. “I saw some pictures of your display at Grand Caypointe.”

“Grand Caypointe has the most excellent resorts,” Otto said and Ling made an interested sound, raising his eyebrows. “Oh yes,” Otto continued, “they have these private cabanas simply tucked away amidst the majestic palms. In the morning, a dazing sight awaits you right outside our very bedroom window. The waves, the first rays of dawn, but I tell you there were many nights I didn't have to wake up to see them. I was well entertained until they came spilling over the sands. Their room service staff is simply the crème of customer service; those darling dark-skinned lads in their pristine white coats would do anything to please, and I do mean anything,” Otto and Ling shared a small laugh and a sip and then they both glanced over at Ed who looked like he was torn between a fight or flight response.

“Oh but yes,” Otto soothed the Professor, “I did do quite an intricate display of solidified water shaping and I think I could be persuaded to do so again,” he smiled.

Ed was suddenly terrified. Never had he been so uncertain of an offer before, not even the homunculus Greed had made such a deal seem so horrific. Before he could force his cowering brain to formulate a reply, the Prince inadvertently saved him with an interruption.

“Tell me about some of your art collection,” Ling said, having removed the sucker again. “I detect a few Xingian influences here and there, but the overall effect is quite foreign to me.”

“Would you like a tour?” Otto asked.

“Oh yes,” the prince said jumping to his feet. “I'm such a fan of culture, I have to have a guide,” Ling grinned.

“About the exhibition,” Ed tried but Ling waved his hands at him.

“It's all you've gone on about practically since the day I met you, you're supposed to be my liaison and you've finally lived up to your job,” the Prince informed him. “Let's take a few moments to experience some culture, Professor, that has nothing to do with a restaurant menu,” then the Prince grinned.

Otto had climbed to his feet as well and Ed's jaw hung open as Ling swooped down on him, grabbing him by his arm and hauling him to his feet.

“We can start with the photographs,” Otto said. “I'm such a fan of Kugel, I know you will be too, come along boys,” and he led the way out of the room with the Prince following and the Professor dragged behind.

***

“It makes me think of midnight,” Otto said as he and Ling both leaned over a particular print laid out on the library table. “The dark lines, the deep tones you could lose yourself in if you are not careful, sometimes I even think I might fall into it and never find my way back out.”

The Prince bounced his sucker stick up and down in his mouth, his hands clasped behind his back, his long black hair trailing over his shoulders as he bent over the table. Edward stood back, mute testament to what he did not know. He had been called prodigy... genius... alchemist, but none of these titles gave any comfort in the face of things beyond the scientific, and art was certainly one of them.

He'd listened before with the intent to absorb knowledge as a man in a gallery led him and the Colonel around, explaining the significance of each piece on display. It had been one of those endless state functions that the Colonel used to attend with regularity and force Ed to come along. Ed really gave it his all, determined to sort out this art world, in its own way as mystifying and oblique as the philosopher's stone. In the end, he admitted defeat, _(and drowsiness)_ , chalking it up to one of those things he was never meant to know. With a mocking grin, told the Colonel that in its way, 'art' was more elusive than any philosopher's stone.

Not that he considered nude photographs of men lounging about on animal hides art. Or even the men with the big balls, _(in their hands!)_ , sepia toned or black and white, it didn't matter. Who would call simple pictures of naked men art? Wasn't art supposed to be creative? Alchemy was called an art because of the word 'creation.' It was the art of making something out of something else, but hadn't Ed heard somewhere that life imitated art? He'd never known any male of his acquaintance to want to do anything remotely like that in the nude... well, the General didn't count... and they had no big... round spheres at home for the General to hold aloft anyway.

“Would you like to see the naughty stuff,” Otto asked the prince, eyes narrowing in mirth, fingers to his lips.

The Prince returned the gesture, nodding and smiling, sucker stick bobbing eagerly.

“As fascinating as this all is,” Ed suddenly injected loudly, “I'm afraid I have to ask you more about the exhibition. It's getting late and I'll have to leave soon to catch my ride home.”

Otto and Ling both turned to look at him and Ed appealed directly to Ling with his eyes, as if asking for deliverance. After all, in his opinion, they'd already seen plenty of 'naughty stuff', so he was very trepidacious about what the true 'naughty stuff' just might be.

“Besides, I'm sure Ran Fan is tired of lurking on the roof or whatever,” Ed cajoled Ling. “If you don't mind, Mr. Dunbar? I'm really marveled by your generosity in hosting, but there was a point to this meeting.”

Ling pulled the sucker out of his mouth and looked at Otto.

“I have to admit that he is right, I did eclipse his original purpose of this visit,” Ling bowed to Ed. “My humblest apologies, Professor.”

“I do rather get carried away, it's just you're both so interesting and charming, you'll forgive me?” Otto said and smiled at Ed.

“It's just I'm not sure that you accepted the invitation,” Ed said, relief setting in. “If you are, I'd like to go over what you might like to do and perhaps we could do something in conjunction...”

“There is no need for him to forgive you,” Ling said to Otto, almost as if Ed hadn't spoken. “It's my fault really. I thought that the Professor might like to get to know a bit more about his culture.”

“I'm well versed in my own culture, thank you,” Ed said. “Mr. Dunbar...”

“I don't mean the Amestris culture,” Ling said cheerfully. “I'm only practicing your vaulted equivalency. I'm talking about the...”

Ed got it then, he simply got it. “Ling,” he said warningly.

“...gay culture,” the Prince finished and blinked at him, smiling.

“Oh,” Otto Dunbar said with obvious delight. “Are you gay?”

Edward Elric, Professor of Alchemy and former State Alchemist, exploded.

“I'm!” he shouted, drawing his fists up to his chest.

“Not!” he screeched throwing them into the air above his head.

“GAY!” he howled slamming them down hard in emphasis.

Otto and Ling both blinked.

“What is with you people?!” Ed shrieked. “First it's Winry, then it's Al and then it's Roy and I try to tell people over and over I'm not gay! Do I look gay, do I act gay, do I sound gay?! I'm just ME! I don't want a label I don't need one! I don't care if anyone likes or dislikes the fact that I sleep with the General who happens to be a man, it's the General and only the General for me! LOOK! LOOK!” Ed ran over to the table, scrabbled through the prints and held aloft one of the nude photographs. “This man is NAKED! He does nothing for me! If I were gay, I would get turned on by looking at him being naked and the big ball he's holding over his head, but I'm not! I don't even care to look at him being naked with a big ball over his head! I don't care if this picture was even taken! He could keep his clothes on for the rest of his life as far as I'm concerned and never show me an inch of skin because naked or clothed I don't care because he's not Roy! I only like to look at Roy naked! That's it! I don't even like to look at girls naked! It makes me uncomfortable! They aren't Roy either, so why should I care?! It's not because I'm gay! I just have what I want and why does everyone out there seem to think I need to be placed in a neat, explainable package for their own comfort! I don't care if you like me! I don't care if you hate me! What I do care about is not what other people think, just what I think! And what Roy thinks! And what Al thinks and that's it and maybe Winry and Pinako and Havoc and all those guys at the office, but that's just because they are my friends and family and I care what they think, but I don't care about you or the world at large because it doesn't matter! QUIT CALLING ME GAY!”

The Prince was jiggling his sucker stick up and down and Otto Dunbar had his eyebrows raised. Ed threw the print down on the table, charged over and snatched the sucker out of Ling's mouth, threw it to the rug and slammed his heel down on it.

There he stood panting, the remains of a cherry-flavored sucker sticking his heel to what looked to be an expensive woven rug. He studied the red shards arranged in a ragged aureole around the toe of his shoe and very slowly lifted his eyes to the two other men in the room.

The Prince regarded him a moment, hands still clasped behind his back.

“I can see this really upsets you,” Ling said.

“I'm terribly sorry,” Otto Dunbar added, fingertips to his chin, “I had no idea.”

Ed groaned. His head sagged forward and he reached up to pull his gloved hand down his face.

“Please don't apologize, Mr. Dunbar,” Ed said, hiding his eyes. “This is entirely my own fault and I am the one who should be apologizing to you. It really has nothing at all to do with you and you've been nothing but kind... and I smashed a sucker into your rug,” Ed finished lamely. Really, he was beyond pathetic. “I most certainly understand if you don't wish to be in the exhibition, after this...” Ed spread his hands helplessly, “I wouldn't want to be either.”

“On the contrary, I'd be delighted,” Otto Dunbar said pleasantly. “Why, I was terribly flattered when I learned that the famous FullMetal Alchemist wanted to see me. It's been such a while and I was so happy to be able to relive a bit of my glory days, if only for the delight of children. Really, what is a nobler cause?”

Ed's head snapped up and he looked at the man.

“You mean you'll do it?” he said faintly.

“Of course,” Otto said. “I do so like a good exhibition, and it will be a chance to mingle with the military's finest. You are right; labels can be a terrible thing. They can hurt a person, ruin their chances and bring pain to their life, but we forget things like 'famous' and 'wonderful' and 'amazing' are labels too. People have this awful tendency to pay attention to the more negative aspects, so for the people who are labeled, it would be best to set a good example. I admire that you have such a strong sense of self and you will be who you are no matter what others think. That takes great courage. I would be proud to be part of your exhibition, if you will have me. I've always heard such wonderful things about you, how fortunate am I that they have all been proven true?”

Ed stepped forward, winced at the cracking of hardened sugar under his feet and grabbed Otto Dunbar's hand.

“You have no idea how much this will mean to the boys,” Ed said. “Thank you very much Mr. Dunbar, I really do appreciate it.”

“Ed likes dragons,” Ling said cheerfully. “He talked about your dragons on the walk over.”

“I do, I do like dragons,” Ed said still shaking the man's hand. “Let me fix your rug,” Ed released Otto's hand, clapped his own together and knelt. When he stood again, he held a complete _(if fuzzy with rug lint)_ sucker in his hand and offered it to the prince. Ling took it slowly, inspected it and let it hang between his forefinger and thumb rather sadly.

“Please call me Otto,” Mr. Dunbar said. “Thank you for fixing my rug, now what is it I can do for you, Professor Elric? I am now at your disposal.”

“Can you come to lunch with the Prince and I tomorrow?” Ed suddenly asked. “It's gotten so late and I have to be heading back, I'd really appreciate it if you could join us.”

“My pleasure,” Otto said, smiling. Ling looked between them and then smiled too. “I am already formulating some ideas for the display.”

Ed and Otto quickly made lunch arrangements while the Prince stood and mourned his sucker. Otto walked side by side with the prince as he escorted them back to the door and gave him a sympathetic pat on his arm.

“I'm terribly sorry, but you know they can be had at any shop on any street corner,” Otto told Ling, opening the door. “Are you going to be participating in the exhibition, Highness, or merely lending your esteemed royal presence?”

Ed started to make a quip about it, but Ling cut him off.

“I was thinking that perhaps Ran Fan and myself could give a demonstration of Xingian hand to hand combat techniques,” the Prince said. “You know, the Professor's enthusiasm is very inspirational. Did I mention that this exhibition has been at the forefront of his mind since I met him all those weeks ago?”

“You did, and I think that would be an excellent display. I must say I've always admired the sleek grace of the Xingian combative forms. Some of the same moves are practiced in Xingian exercises and meditation, I had an opportunity once to study closely with a lovely young Xingian man,” Otto gave a wistful smile.

“Well, see you tomorrow,” Ed said, opening the door. “I really hate to rush off like this, come on Ling,” Ed stepped out onto the porch and Ling paused to hand the sucker to Otto, who smiled indulgently and took it. “You boys be careful, see you tomorrow.”

He stood in his doorway and waved as they went down the walk, through the gate and turned down the street. Ed pushed his hands into his pockets as they walked along, looking sidelong at Ling.

“So, you spar?” the blond alchemist asked. “For pleasure or for real?”

“I have a feeling I could do a fair mix of both at the same time,” the Prince said, returning the sidelong look.

“Good,” Ed said with a slow smile. “Because I only do it for real.”

At the intersection on the street, Ed caught a cab and headed back toward the Central Military complex and the Prince watched him go. Ran Fan soon appeared at his elbow and they looked at each other for a long moment. He was a bit disappointed when the sucker she gave him turned out to be grape instead of cherry.

***

“How did it go?” Roy asked on the ride home.

“As per my usual,” Ed said and sighed. “I made a complete ass of myself, but the people around me are always bigger than I am. I don't mean that physically,” Ed said quickly. “What I mean is that he let me act like an imbecile and still agreed to help me. Really, it's a talent, I ought to try and bottle it for sale.”

Roy chuckled softly and reached over to pat Ed's hand on the seat between them.

“You really are irresistible,” the General said.

Ed laid his head back on the seat and rolled it to look at Roy.

“What I am is a great big contradiction in terms,” Ed sighed. “I always say I don't care what people think and then I go and get all overreactional about a stupid word. I'm a complete loser.” Ed rolled his head back and stared at the car ceiling. “Why do you put up with me?”

“Because I'm lucky,” the General said. “Of course I should have said out of habit or something similar, but something tells me that today you've reached your being teased quota and I should be nice. I'm perceptive like that, you know.”

“Yeah,” Ed said. “That makes me lucky, too. Has anyone ever called you gay?” Ed asked slowly.

“No,” Roy said. “Why do you ask?”

“Is it because you used to date girls?” Ed said, mouth pulling down on one side.

“Don't be silly,” Roy laughed. “It's because I have rank. We dogs are rather obsessive that way. I'm sure I've been called quite a few things when I'm not around to bristle and thrust out my chest medals, it doesn't really matter what others think.”

“Yeah,” Ed said, “that's what I always say. Looks like we're going to have a really great exhibition, though. There will be Alex, Otto, me and Al. At least I hope there will be Al if I can drag him away from East City. Guess what? The Xingians want to show off some hand to hand. Prince Dainty-Ass says he spars.”

“Ling spars?” Roy said, risking a glance in Ed's direction. The blond man was developing the sort of smile that sent chills down Roy's back.

“Yeah, fancy that,” Ed said. “I might be a bit rusty, but it's okay, I'm sure I could use the exercise.”

“If you break him, I'll get in a lot of trouble,” Roy said.

“Don't worry, I promise not to break off anything that can't be put back on,” Ed said with a cackle and wiggled his automail fingers.


	16. Chapter 16

Ran Fan opened the door, gave him a polite half bow and stepped back to allow him in. He'd never been in the Xingian 'embassy' before, never set foot in the territory of Ling. He shouldered his duffel and turned back to look at Ran Fan. She stepped past him, indicated that he should follow in that eloquent wordless language of hers. She stopped short however, and Ed, who was looking around at the furnishings in the foyer almost ran into her back. He looked up to where she was looking and standing halfway up the stairs was the prince himself.

“Welcome to Xing,” Ling said with obvious mirth. “I think you should be careful when you make declarations Professor. Here you said you'd never step foot in my country.”

Ed put his hand on his hip and gave the prince a baleful look.

“This is fake Xing,” Ed said. “It's like you, an imitation of the real thing.”

The prince only grinned and came the rest of the way down the steps, stopping at the bottom. He was dressed in a pair of blousy silk pants that gathered at his ankles, an equally blousy shirt with a deep 'v' collar revealing a lot of the prince's chest and a short silk vest of deep red. His hair was pulled back almost casually in a ponytail instead of trailing loosely over his shoulders and being caught up at the sides.

Ed was still in his 'work' clothes, hence the duffel. Ed shrugged at the prince.

“Where do I change?” he asked, taking in the elegant yet simple furnishings of the main floor of the house.

The prince nodded at Ran Fan and she half bowed and withdrew. Ling beckoned to Ed and turned down the hall past the stairs. He opened a door down the hall and lead Ed into what appeared to be a small bedroom, it reminded Ed that the embassy had at one time been an actual residence. Ling stood with his hands clasped behind his back and Ed unshouldered the duffel, setting it on the bed.

“So did they kick the family who was living here out to make room for your mooching ass?” Ed said and worked at the buttons on his cuffs.

“I can hardly say,” the prince said, “it was already arranged when I arrived. I'm having the staff prepare us some tea, it's always a good way to start any activity.”

Ed was unbuttoning his vest when he realized the prince was making no move to leave.

“I'm going to change,” Ed said flatly.

“So you said,” the prince replied.

“As in change my clothes,” Ed pointed out.

“That is what I'd gathered unless you had special sparring automail you hadn't informed me about,” the prince grinned.

“You're not going to watch me change my clothes,” Ed snorted.

“You're so self conscious,” the prince smiled. “I thought by being in attendance, almost as a valet but not actually a valet being as I am a prince, might help you overcome some of your issues.”

“My issue is with _you_ seeing _me_ change my clothes,” Ed snarled. “Now get the fuck out!”

Ling sighed expansively and slowly made his way over to the door.

“In my country we take communal baths after we spar...” Ling started.

“Get out!” Ed shrieked and Ling ducked out and closed the door quick enough so the shoe bounced off and fell to the ground.

***

When Ed emerged he had a tie hanging out of his mouth and was busy braiding his hair behind him. The prince, who was standing in the hallway, nodded his head and proceeded down the hall. Ed followed. Ed's sparring gear wasn't as elaborate as the prince's, just a pair of loose draw tie sweat pants an a old t-shirt with the collar torn out. He preferred to spar bare foot, a habit picked up when he sparred with Al over the years. He tied off the end of his braid and flicked it over his shoulder as Ling led him to the back of the house and through the kitchen. There was a Carolingian man and woman in the kitchens Ed had never seen before and when he and the prince entered they stopped what they were doing to bow in Ling's direction.

The prince spoke to them briefly in Xingian before opening the kitchen door that led out to the gardens. Ed followed him out and looked around. It must have been a typical back yard for the houses on the street. It was large, spacious and fenced by high fencing all the way around. There was a partial bricked patio with a table and chairs set off to one side of it. The landscaping was different from anything Ed had seen. Bushes and small trees that didn't look native, there were many dotted patches of flowers along what appeared to be a path leading toward the back corner. At the end of the path was a large pond and Ed's curiosity was instantly piqued but the prince sauntered over to the table and flopped into one of the chairs as he normally did. He grinned at Ed and made a casual indication of the chair opposite him with his hand. Ed sighed and sat down.

“Do you like the gardens?” Ling asked. “They are but a poor approximation of the gardens in the palace, but they serve their purpose.”

“They're alright,” Ed said, trying to affect an air of nonchalance. “They aren't going to keep me from kicking your ass, which I'm dying to get to by the way. Why are we lounging on your patio? Having second thoughts?”

“Not at all, I'm very eager myself to sample your fabled skills, however,” Ling held up his finger, “in civilized times we remember ourselves and our decorum. Plus I don't want to the tea to get cold.”

Ed might have retaliated further but the back door opened and the Xingian woman from the kitchen emerged with a tray, the man followed her. They came to the table, heads bowed in deference and the man began to unload the tray with hurried precision. The tea cups resembled small bowls, at least Ed thought they might be tea cups and there was no sugar or cream offered. The kettle looked to be made of iron and had an intricate handle that was made to look like a long, skinny dragon arching it's back. The man also set out plates of what looked to be small tea cakes. Ed arched an eyebrow at Ling and the prince shrugged comfortably. The man poured liquid into each cup, about half way up and set the kettle on the table. Templing his hands, the man bowed as he backed away. The woman bowed as well, the pair then turned and retreated into the house.

“What is this?” Ed said, tilting his bowl up and peering in.

“It's tea,” the prince said, raising his eyebrows.

“This isn't tea,” Ed said. “Tea is brown, I've had tea before.”

“It's green tea,” Ling said. “It's a tradition in my country. It cleanses your system.”

“Cleanses? You mean like it drugs people? You're trying to drug me?” Ed shot back.

“What? No, don't be absurd, it's green tea,” Ling insisted.

“Well go ahead and drink some,” Ed challenged.

The Prince cupped his bowl, raised it to his lips and took a sip.

“That wasn't much of a drink,” Ed folded his arms.

“It's hot,” Ling snorted. “Why would I try to drug you?”

“I don't know, hoping to slow me down?” Ed looked at his bowl again. “There isn't any cream and sugar.”

“This tea doesn't require cream and sugar,” the prince huffed. “It's much more healthful than that vile drink I'm forced to choke down at every reception I go to.”

Ed tilted the bowl again, then cupped it and lifted it, sniffing at the contents.

“It smells off,” Ed said and set the bowl back down.

“You don't have to drink it,” the prince said and sniffed like he was insulted and sipped his tea again.

Ed mulled it over, the prince had been awfully indulgent of his restaurant choices lately. With a small sigh he lifted the bowl to his lips and took a sip. It was too hot at first to get any proper sense of taste out of and he lowered the bowl and blew over the surface. He raised his eyes to find Ling watching him, and when he met Ling's eyes, Ling smiled slowly.

“It is drugged,” Ed accused, setting the bowl down.

“What are you talking about?” the prince said, jaw dropping a little. “You are going out of your way to be difficult.”

“I'm not, you're smiling at me like some dime-novel evil overlord waiting for the drug to kick in,” Ed sat back again and folded his arms. “You are really worried about me trouncing you aren't you? AND before we get this started I want to hear from your mouth Ran Fan stays out of it.”

The Prince put his hands on the table and stood, he shrugged out of his short vest and dropped it into the chair. He fisted his hand, placed it against the palm of his other hand and gave Ed a short bow.

“Let's do this,” the Prince said and turned to stride into an open area in the garden.

“Now that's what I'm talking about,” Ed crowed, jumping to his feet and hurrying to follow.

**

He rolled and got his feet under him, stood and brought his arms up again, resisting the urge to wipe the dirt from his face. His opponent immediately moved back into a defensive stance and studied him coolly. It was all tension at this point, each waiting for the other to make a move. He did move then, surged forward and feigned to his right and brought his leg up on the left. The other man caught the movement, blocked the leg with his arm grunting as he did so, and they danced apart. When he charged forward again his opponent charged as well, but he did a half turn and was suddenly airborne. He threw his own arm up to block a fraction of a second to late, the blow struck the side of his head and Ed turned with it. He tried to keep his feet but there was a strike to the back of his knee and he went down again.

“Be glad I'm not the one with automail,” the man still standing said with a touch of mirth in his voice.

Ed shoved back to his feet, wiped his mouth with the back of his flesh hand and spit out some dirt. He gave Ling a sneer and shook himself.

“Maybe you'd like some tea _now_?” the prince questioned.

Ed gave him an elaborate Amestris hand signal that called for just his middle finger to be extended while he curled the rest of them into his fist. Ling grinned and bowed to him. Ed rolled his shoulders and then stretched his arms back. Grinning bastard, wiry son of a bitch. He was loving this, the fucker was gloating and it rankled Ed to his very roots that he'd tasted dirt not just once, but twice.

“That gesture strikes me as being very unsporting,” the Prince said. “After all, you are the one who suggested we do this in the first place, I was merely being accommodating.”

“I'll drink your goddamn green water if it will make your smarmy ass shut up,” Ed hissed and the turned and stomped to the patio. Threw himself down in his chair and picked up his bowl and drained it in one gulp.

“It was cold,” he said holding the bowl aloft as Ling walked over. “It tasted like cabbage water,” the prince was informed.

“You mock thousands of years of my countries traditions,” Ling said, walking up to stand beside the table.

“This bothers you?” Ed asked.

“Not really,” the prince replied.

“You know I don't get you,” Ed said, leveling a look at Ling. “Just what is your agenda? I know you're here as Roy's pet Prince, but what else is on your mind? I mean why the specific interest in me? And I'm not talking about your flirting bullshit. Oh you look surprised, did you think I was dense?”

The Xingian man suddenly emerged through the back door again, bringing a large bowl of water and some towels. He set these on the table and cleared the tea settings away.

“So the General got jealous?” the Prince asked as the servant retreated. “Wasn't that your first clue?”

“You fucking leave him out of this,” Ed snarled. “I'm talking about _your_ agenda. I don't think this is truly a patriotic cause for you. Wait a minute, while we are on the subject of the General, do you get some perverse thrill out of making my lover act like a possessive jerk? I really don't appreciate it.”

“That is interesting,” Ling said, soaking one of the smaller towels in the bowl and ringing it out. “You don't like the General showing his feelings for you?”

“What? No I'm not talking about that. He just has this tendency to be a jerk when he feels threatened...” Ed said.

“Have you given him cause to feel threatened?” the Prince asked, reaching up to wash his face.

“No! I mean I haven't, it's been you. He caught you at Al's party, remember?” Ed insisted.

“Did you tell him I kissed you?” the prince said casually, putting aside the towel he had used and wetting a clean one. He offered it to Ed who was looking at him and had said nothing.

“I take your silence as a 'no',” the prince said and started to reach to wipe Ed's face himself when Ed didn't reach up to take the towel. But Ed grabbed his wrist and held it, golden eyes meeting black.

“Tell me the fuck why you kiss me, why you want to flirt with me. Is it a real attraction to me or are you looking for something?” Ed said lowly.

“I'm attracted to you,” the prince said, making no move to free his wrist. “You are intriguing and intelligent. You are lovely. A person would have to be blind not to be attracted to you.”

Ed shoved Ling's wrist away and stood.

“I think you're a lying bastard,” Ed hissed. “There is something you want from me and you're not telling me.”

“Is it so hard to think of yourself as attractive?” the prince questioned, no trace of his usual mirth on his face. “Do you think in some way that you are undesirable? Then let me ask you this, if you truly believe these things why would the General want you?”

“He's known me my whole life, or at least it seems that way,” Ed started, then looked away. “I mean, he was the first to come onto me and I was flattered, I liked him, I mean I love him.”

“He's been your only lover?” the prince asked.

 _No._

“Yes,” Ed said. “But that doesn't mean anything, it just means I picked the right person straight off the bat,” Ed gave a shrug and an insincere grin. “I'm a prodigy you know.”

“How long has he been your lover?” the prince continued and he sat down and clasped his hands in his lap.

“Since I was fifteen but what does that matter? Did you bring me over here to get my life story?” Ed gestured toward the garden. “I'm ready to go again.”

“Maybe I'm interested in your life story,” the prince said. “From what I've heard you've had a very interesting one.”

“I did some flashy things as a kid,” Ed said, folding his arms. “That's all behind me now. I'm a teacher, my life is good, that's all I really wanted.”

“Seems like a very sedate profession for you,” Ling said, templing his hands under his chin. “Do you ever miss it? Your adventures? You were quite well known.”

“Has this got a point?” Ed said, unfolding his arms and putting his hands on his hips. “If all you want to do is play twenty questions I have better things to do.”

“I'm merely trying to know you better,” the prince said. “If you are so eager to have your face shoved in the dirt I suppose I can indulge you.” Ling stood and stretched. “I have an idea,” the prince suddenly said. “For every blow you land you get to ask a question, for every blow I land I get to ask a question. The round lasts until one of us tastes the dirt.”

“And you'll answer the question with nothing held back?” Ed asked, eyeing the prince.

“I will answer your question truthfully and with as much detail as I can offer, will you return the favor?” the prince said.

“You're on,” Ed growled, heading for the open space.

**

“So you see I will be in Central from the twelfth to the eighteenth,” Al said, sitting in front of Colonel Hawkeye's desk. “This exhibition is very important to brother, so I wouldn't be asking otherwise. She's really a very nice cat,” Al smiled and looked at Lieutenant Pharr who was standing to Riza's right.

“I don't know,” Pharr said. “I'm not very good with animals,” he rubbed the back of his neck. Al cast his sights on Marilyn, sitting at the long table.

“I'm allergic,” Second Lieutenant Harper sang out. “Otherwise I'd help you out Al, you know I would.”

Al turned his eyes on the Colonel but she only raised her eyebrows and glanced down to her right at the dog sleeping on a pillow by her feet.

“I guess Sofie does Central,” Pharr grinned.

“I should have never told you about that phone conversation,” Al laughed.

“You could always ask around the office,” the Colonel said. “What about Lieutenant Parkerson? He owes you a few favors.”

“Oh no,” Al said and waved his hand. “I couldn't, he's far to busy.”

“Might mistake her for an experiment,” Pharr added helpfully.

“There is that,” Al said with a smile and shrug. “I guess there is nothing for it, I'm sure R.D. won't mind too much.”

“The twelfth is a little over two weeks away,” the Colonel said.

 _Will you miss me?_

“It won't be as meaningful to go to Chester's book reading without you, but I suppose I'll get by,” she said with a small smile.

Al barely contained his shriek of joy.

There was a sudden tap on the office door and Al turned his head and the Colonel got to her feet. A man stood there, he was tallish in a nice suit and he carried a shoulder bag. He grinned and entered, moving straight to the Colonel's desk and extended his hand.

“Riza, it's good to see you again,” he said, his smile warm and he held her fingers.

“Macklin,” she returned the smile and shook his hand. “It's good of you to come by and how fortunate that Alphonse is here as well.” She turned to look at Al, who jumped to his feet. He caught himself as he was about to salute.

“Alphonse Elric,” the Colonel said, “this is Macklin Talbert, he's a architect who specializes in the building and design of military bases. He has studied Brisbane extensively and the military has engaged him to work with us in designing some new barracks for the bases to the east.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Al said, extending his hand.

“I've heard a lot about you from Riza,” the man said and smiled. “Quite an accomplishment for such a young man to retire from the military as a Lieutenant Colonel and continue his service in a consultant capacity. Most young men your age are out chasing women, I'm duly impressed.”

Al felt his cheeks color just a bit. Why was Talbert being so familiar with the Colonel and calling her by her first name?

Macklin released Al's hand and turned back to Riza.

“I hope I can take you to dinner tonight,” he said.

“I look forward to it,” she returned.

Al's heart sank into his shoes.

**

“Hey General, a few of us are going out tonight, why don't you and the boss come along?” Havoc grinned at his superior officer over his desk.

“That sounds like a plan, the 'boss' has been rather cabin feverish lately. Ask him when he gets here, if he wants to I'm all for it,” the General returned.

“Ask the boss? But you sound like you want to go, just tell the boss we're going out,” Havoc said.

Roy looked up slowly at the blond officer standing in front of his desk.

“Havoc, you are in a relationship, am I correct?” he asked.

Havoc puffed up like a peacock. “Damn straight,” he said around his toothpick, “best damn girl in all of Central if you ask me.”

“And do you just _tell_ her you are going to do something without asking her input?” the General said, lacing his fingers and putting his elbows on the desk.

“Well...sometimes. I mean, if it's something I really want to do. She usually doesn't object.” Havoc said.

“So you just order her to go with you?” the General said, his smirk sliding into its familiar place.

“It's different, you and the boss are married,” Havoc said.

The General's eyebrows climbed all the way to the back of his head.

“Yeah,” Breda added from across the room. “You're an old married man now, it's really sad to see how the mighty have fallen. Ed says 'jump', you say 'how high'?” Breda shook his head sadly.

“What?” the General gasped. “That's ridiculous, and beside the point. I don't believe Sarah would put up with any of that nonsense from you,” The General pointed at Havoc. “Now who decided you were going out tonight?”

“She did,” Havoc mumbled.

“Did she tell you to invite us?” the General pressed.

“Yes,” Havoc mumbled.

“I see who gives the orders,” Roy snorted leaning back in his chair.

“Yeah Sarah and Ed have ruined the both of you, “ Breda snorted.

“I don't think it's being ruined to want to please your spouse,” Fuery interjected. “After all, it's the life choice you have made and you've committed to compromises.”

“Ed and I aren't married. We are...partners,” The General said, nodding.

“That's what you think,” Breda continued. “Let Ed wander in here with his boxers in a twist and you all but flop on the floor and roll on your back.”

“I swear we see your tail wagging,” Havoc added.

“Don't listen to them General,” Fuery said. “I think having a partnership is a good thing.”

“I agree,” Falman said. “Abigail and I discuss every joint decision before making any plans.”

“It takes you two days just to tell me if you and Abby can go to dinner with us or not,” Havoc snorted. “You know you've always done everything by committee, you just added another person to your committee.”

The General waved his hands.

“Partnership or not, committee or not the fact of the matter is I _like_ deferring to Ed, and not just to keep the peace,” the General sat back as they all looked at him. “Edward hasn't had as many opportunities to make choices as I have. I'm comfortable with my decision making skills, I'm merely giving him a chance to sharpen his.”

“You are, without a doubt, the master of bullshit,” Havoc said and saluted.

“I don't think that's bullshit, I think the General is a very selfless person,” Fuery snorted.

“You would,” Breda said and then puckered his lips and made smoochy noises.

“I would like to interject I think the General has a point about allowing Edward to sharpen his skills. I would hope the General plans on encouraging Edward to work on his people skills in the future,” Falman stated.

“I don't think that's fair,” the General said. “I think Ed has come a long way from the terror-in-a-red-coat he once was.”

“Yeah,” Havoc said. “The boss has gotten better about not cursing so much.”

“He doesn't throw things around anymore either,” Breda said.

“I don't see any problems with Ed's people skills,” Fuery added.

There was a slight commotion in the hall before the door of the General's office was kicked open and a snarling madman stood in the doorway.

“You better be glad there are so many Xingian princes because I'm gonna fuckin' kill this one!” the frothing, snarling figure shrieked and threw its briefcase across the room, where it struck the front of the General's desk and clattered to the floor.

The General turned too look at Falman and gave him a thumbs up sign.

“That is next thing up on my list,” he said.

**

  
Ed's head snapped to the left but he kept his feet.

“First blow,” the prince said, dancing neatly back out of the way. “What is it you see in General Mustang?”

“I have to answer while we spar?” Ed said incredulously. “That's not fair!”

The prince shrugged, grinned and closed in. Ed backpedaled and drove him off with a few kicks.

“Fine!” Ed said. “What do I see in him? He helped me out, he helped my brother out. He's good to me, he loves me. He's level headed and he's insightful. He knows how to treat people, he's brilliant. He's got a good sense of humor and he's sexy as fuck. How's that?”

“Not bad, not bad,” the prince said and closed in again. They danced around the open space. Ed had his hands up. He was bouncing a bit on the balls of his feet. He slowed, letting the prince get close and took a chance. The prince blocked his arm and ducked under it to avoid the accompanying blow by his leg. The ball of the prince’s fist struck him on the side of the jaw and Ed moved with it, once again keeping his feet.

“Second blow,” the prince said. “How did it feel when I kissed you?”

“First time or second time?” Ed snarled, dodging another kick.

“Oh I'd say the second time, that first time was just a peck on the cheek,” the prince said gleefully.

Ed wet his lips, kept weaving back and forth, kept his feet moving. Truthful, he had to be truthful to the fucker and he had to land his own goddamn blow.

“It wasn't bad,” Ed admitted. “I was surprised because you know, you got fucking lousy etiquette moving in on someone else's claim. But it was an okay kiss...I've had better,” he said smugly.

The prince wiggled his eyebrows, the infernal grin never leaving his face. Ed gave him the middle finger salute and then had to backpedal furiously to avoid a quick jab of blows.

Ed was getting a bit winded and told himself resolutely he was going to start making use of the gym in the main building. He could go there and work out while waiting for Roy to get off of work. This was fucking disgraceful, he really had gone rusty. He'd let his comfort with his life lull him and put him off his game. He ducked another blow and countered but the prince was fucking quick and pulled back out of the way.

 _I've got to get one in! I have to know, he's not telling me everything. The fucker better come clean, I have to get one in!_

The prince moved in again,Ed countered all his strikes neatly.

 _Ha! Not as rusty as I thought..._

Then the prince landed a fist in Ed's mid-section and Ed backpedaled gasping but kept his feet.

 _Sunuvabitch!_

“Third blow,” the prince said and tilted his head. “Would you like me to kiss you again?”

Ed's vision blurred around the edges and his stomach rolled into a knot and he channeled all that fury into one beautiful round house kick. He got massive ground clearance and a glimpse of the bastard’s surprised expression before the side of Ed's leg connected solidly with the side of Ling's head. The prince hit the ground on his shoulder and Ed came down neatly and straightened up slowly. The prince sat up and rubbed the side of his head. Ed cocked an eyebrow.

“Guess you were lucky it was the right leg,” Ed said, the squatted down abruptly and met the prince eye to eye.

“First blow,” Ed panted, “and match over. What is it you really want from me?”

“You didn't answer my last question,” the prince challenged.

 _The truth._

“I've thought about it,” Ed admitted lowly.

The prince leaned toward him and Ed tensed but his look was speculative and his grin slid off his mouth.

“I want you,” the prince said, “to help me acquire the Philosopher's Stone.”

Ed's jaw would have hit the ground if the prince hadn't chosen that moment to kiss him again.

**

Ed sat in the restaurant next to Roy and opposite Havoc and Sarah. Falman and Abby were to his right and Breda and Fuery were to Havoc's right. They were all studying menus.

“All I'm saying,” Ed continued, “is that it's a damn good that I put up that fence and installed that dog door. Now we don't have to rush home every evening to avoid accidents.”

“I thought you didn't like that dog,” Havoc teased. “You sure go out of your way for it.”

“I'm not doing it for me,” Ed said loftily, “I'm doing it for Roy.”

“Is that the difference?” Sarah grinned. “That's damn fine cover there Ed.”

“It's not cover, it's the truth,” Ed snorted.

“Ed who tap danced on your jaw?” Breda said and rubbed his own bearded jaw in sympathy.

“Oh,” Ed grumbled, “that was the prince. Turns out the fucker spars better than he looks like he should.”

Ed felt the subtle brush of Roy's knuckles against the side of his thigh under the table and he bumped his foot against Roy's.

 _He's still jealous...I don't know if I'm pissed or flattered._

But that only gave Ed a massive guilty twinge. He pretended to be extremely interesting in some anecdote that Falman was imparting about pocket protectors so that he didn't have to look at Roy for a moment.

 _Okay how fucking fair is that Elric? You let the fucker kiss you. Right on the lips and you didn't push him away, you didn't hit him or anything. Why? Fucking why?_

Ed looked around when Roy elbowed him softly and noticed with a start the waitress was standing there. He glanced down at the menu but in reality only listened to what Roy ordered then seconded it.

 _Has the General been your only lover?_

“When is the exhibition?” Fuery asked with a smile. “I want to bring my nephew if that's ok?”

Ed leapt on the subject grateful for the distraction.

“It's two weeks form Saturday,” Ed leaned over the table a little. “Of course you can bring whoever you like, I know I haven't made any formal invitations but whoever wants to come is invited.” Ed looked up and down the table. “It's for the Academy you know, it's a good cause.”

There was some general nodding of heads and such and then the waitress brought the beer and that was far more interesting than Ed's little cause.

“That's just typical,” Ed grumbled but accepted a beer glass with no qualms. “I need to invite Otto out to the house for a practice run. Can we send a car for him General? After all it's for the military academy,” Ed looked at Roy and took a drink of his beer.

“I don't see why not, we can call it the military's contribution,” Roy took his own sip. “I'm surprised the prince got in any blows decent enough to leave a mark.”

“Well just let me take back that dainty-ass comment,” Ed snorted. “Maybe all the moron has to do in Xing is eat and train at hand to hand. I'm going to start working out in the gym.”

Roy grinned and shook his head.

“You know Ed, it's not a crime to run into someone who's better at something than you are,” he chuckled. “But then again it's your drive that makes you who you are. I won't mind seeing you...tighten up a bit.”

Ed slammed his glass down on the table.

“Are you calling me flabby Mr. Spare Tire?” Ed questioned. “You did not just say I'm getting soft in the middle, you didn't.”

“You know, I just lost a bet with Alphonse,” Roy said wryly. “When is he coming into town anyways?”

“Next weekend,” Ed started, then: “Wait a minute, what bet? What the hell are you betting with my little brother for? I mean in pertaining to _me_.”

“That ability to gloss over everything, you know...just rail road it right into your own station,” Roy grinned.

“What? I'm not stupid, I know what you're talking about even when you don't say it,” Ed stressed. “Are you calling me self centered? Is that what this is?”

“Lost the bet twice,” Roy said and poured himself another beer.

**

Roy opened his eyes blearily as Ed shook his shoulder. He turned his head but couldn't make out his lover's features in the darkness.

“What is it?” the General mumbled. “What time is it? Is something wrong?”

“Roy,” Ed said. “I have a dark place, I need to tell you about it.”

“What?” Roy pushed up on his elbows. “What are you talking about Ed?”

“Today, when I was at the Xingian embassy, something the prince said,” Ed continued.

Roy scooted and sat up, reached out in the darkness and brushed Ed's arm. Then trailed his hand up it to Ed's shoulder.

“Roy, the prince wants the philosopher's stone,” Ed scooted closer and Roy squeezed his shoulder. “He told me that is his true agenda, he's volunteered to come here because somehow he knows that we found it. He wants me to help him.”

“What did you tell him?” Roy asked.

“I told him he was a fucking lunatic of course and dropped the subject, but somehow he knows, Roy.” Ed's fingers touched Roy's chest. “What should I do? I don't think I should see him anymore. You know I can't tell him about the stone.”

“No, of course not,” Roy murmured. “If you decide to stop seeing him that's up to you Ed,” because Roy trusted him. “He's not the kind to be easily discouraged.”

“I know,” Ed sighed.

“You can handle this, I have faith,” Roy said and released Ed's shoulder and laid back down. “Just tell him where to stick it, you know that everyone will back you up. Nobody will volunteer him anything.”

“Yeah,” Ed said, “ok. But I wanted to tell you because you needed to know.”

“Thank you,” the General said. “Come on, lay down and get some sleep.”

Ed settled at his side and pillowed his head on Roy's shoulder. Roy turned and nosed his hair.

“Next time why don't you tell me before the wee hours of the morning, hmmm?” Roy mumbled.

“Yeah,” Ed said. “Sorry.”

But he didn't tell the General about the kiss.

**

“Are you really wearing that?” Ed said, heading for the front door as the doorbell rang with R.D. hot on his trail. “You could at least go and brush your hair,” Ed called out reaching the door. He opened it and smiled.

“Otto, I'm really glad you could make it,” then he had to scrabble to catch R.D. who thought he might be able to make a break for it. He practically dove for the little dog and ended up on his stomach at Otto's feet with a wiggling terrier in his outstretched hands.

“I'm really glad I could make it too,” Otto grinned down at him. “Do you need any help, Professor?”

“No, got it, I'm fine,” Ed grunted with tears in the corner of his eyes. He managed to get to his knees by using his elbows as a prop up and then get to his feet, R.D. still firmly in grip. “Why don't you come on in?” Ed wheezed.

Otto followed Ed down into the living room and Roy stood up from the couch. Ed came over and shoved R.D. into his arms. Ed looked him up and down once again and then at his hair. After closing his eyes briefly, Ed plastered on a smile and turned to Otto.

  
“Octavious Dunbar may I introduce you to General Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist” Ed said. “Roy this is Octavious Dunbar, the Hydro Alchemist.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Roy said and extended his hand and Otto extended his as well but hesitated.

“I assure you the pleasure is all mine, but should we really be shaking hands?” he asked with a grin. “I can tell you that you are one fire I most definitely don't want to put out.”

Roy's smile froze in place, he still had his hand extended so Otto did shake it and nodded at Ed.

“I can see why you said what you did in my study, he is quite a looker,” Otto smiled.

Ed turned scarlet, then purple, then decided on scarlet again. Roy looked at him sidelong and Ed suddenly grabbed Otto's elbow and steered him back toward the hall.

“We can go out back and practice,” Ed said rushed and overly loud. “We got a water hose!”

“Ed,” Roy said with a grin, setting R.D. on his feet, “let's offer our guest coffee first at least.”

“I'd love some coffee,” Otto said as Ed dragged him down the hall.

R.D. chased them into the kitchen and began bouncing around Otto's feet. Ed tried once to shoo him but R.D. would not be deterred. Roy came in and took over the coffee making duty.

“I've got it Ed, why don't you see if we have any shortbread cookies, then sit down with your guest,” Roy smiled and shooed Ed away from the coffee pot.

“But...” Ed started.

“We want Mr. Dunbar to be able to drink the coffee,” Roy said. “Not eat through steel with it.”

Ed had never gotten the hang of the percolator. Otto smiled pleasantly from his seat at the table. He was scratching R.D.'s head and the little terrier stood with his front paws on the man's knee.

“You don't have to let R.D. climb all over you,” Ed told him, going through cabinets and looking for a cookie tin. “He's pretty hyper when he meets new people.”

“Well you know they say that dogs reflect their owners,” Otto said and Ed gave Roy a smirk.

“I don't think he's talking about me,” Roy grinned.

“R.D. is Roy's dog,” Ed said and huffed a bit.

“Oh my mistake then,” Otto said with a grin.

Ed located the tin, brought it to the table, sitting opposite Otto, he pried it open. Roy brought over the sugar bowl and retrieved the cream from the ice box and set it on the table. R.D. switched sides at the sound of the tin opening and began hopping at Ed's feet. Ed tried to ignore him, but ended up glaring at him.

“Go on R.D.,” Ed said. “Nothing for you here.”

“Now how is he suppose to know that?” Roy said bringing over mugs and setting them on the table. “You slip him snacks all the time.”

Ed gaped a bit, glanced at Otto and snapped his mouth shut, cheeks pinking slightly.

“Why don't you tell me what you had in mind Professor,” Otto offered to cover Ed's embarrassment. “I'm really interested in your ideas.”

“Well first off call me Ed. I can't tell you how much I appreciate the time you're putting into this, coming all the way out here on the weekend and such.”

Roy brought the percolator over and poured them all a cup and used a pot holder to set the hot coffee pot on the table. He sat down next to Edward, fished a shortbread cookie out of the tin, snapped it in half, giving half to the frantic terrier at his feet.

Ed quirked an eyebrow at him and Roy half shrugged, grinning.

“I was thinking,” Ed said turning back to Otto, “I could transmute some kind of fountain. Oh even better. Al could do that, he's better at artsy stuff than I am. Then you could make it flow. And of course I want to see the dragons,” Ed smiled a little and pretended to be interested in his coffee, “they are kind of neat, I mean really intricate.”  
“The fountain is an excellent idea,” Otto said, legs crossed neatly. He lifted his mug taking a sip. “Oh excellent coffee my dear General.”

Roy nodded, leaned back in his chair and crossed his arm.

“Maybe I could so some sort of design that could be powered by water, you know like one of those models you see that rolls balls about and things, only on a grander scale. I have some books I could look through,” Ed said leaning on the table.

“What will the other alchemists be doing?” Otto said. “General are you participating?”

“Ah,” Roy said. “I'm afraid not.”

“That's a real shame,” Otto said. “Water and fire are such an interesting dynamic, we could probably do something positively breathtaking.”

“The General is retired from alchemy,” Ed said. “He'll be there for moral support.”

“No one is ever retired from alchemy, they only fall a bit out of practice,” Otto said. “I haven't been active with the military in years, and yet I am still an alchemist. Just because you give up your state sanction doesn't mean you give up being an alchemist. I would have thought with the General's position he would keep his certification?”

“He's very busy...” Ed started but Roy laid a hand on his arm and smiled at him.

“Actually,” Roy said. “My inactivity is due to my injury. You must realize that fire isn't as forgiving as water should it get away from one.”

“Ah, perception is it?” Otto said. “You know General, that doesn't mean you can't be a showman. Flash is done in open air and on a larger scale. With enough open space about, why, anything is possible. And you would have me there to handle any fall out,” Otto winked and sipped his coffee.

Ed looked at Roy and his eyebrows rose. Roy rubbed his chin and glanced at Ed and Ed sort of nudged his foot under the table.

“It would mean a lot to you wouldn't it?” Roy asked his lover and Ed smiled and pressed his forehead to the General's shoulder briefly. Roy turned to Otto again. “What did you have in mind?” the General said.

“Oh General, let me tell you about a thought I had about a phoenix and a dragon,” the older man said and smiled.

Ed couldn't help his own grin.

They talked well into dinner which Roy graciously cooked for them and eventually it was late enough to say goodnight. Roy summoned the driver back with a phone call and Ed walked Otto out to the car.

“Thank you again,” Ed said. “This means a lot to the academy and...you did something for me as well.”

Otto smiled at him, patted his shoulder and the driver opened the door.

“I could tell that maybe he needed to hear it from someone besides his partner,” Otto said. “He has all the makings of a first class show off.” Otto slid into the back seat. The driver closed the door and moving to the driver’s side, climbed in.

“Oh yeah,” Ed said. “He dances.”

Ed stood and waved until the car turned onto the main road and faded from sight.

**

Alphonse stood in the foyer with a carrier raised above his head. R.D. was hopping up and down and getting some impressive air time. He was almost clearing Al's chest with every leap. The carrier above Al's head complained loudly and Ed almost shoved his fingers in his ears rather than try to catch the manic dog.

“There wasn't anyone you could leave her with?” Ed complained, capturing R.D. “I guess I'll just lock him in the den.” Ed put R.D. down inside the den door and kept him back with his foot until he could close it.

“I tried,” Al said apologetically, “but everyone was allergic, inept or otherwise. The Colonel has the same problem you have, I'm sure Hayate wouldn't have been thrilled.” Al lowered the carrier.

“No it's ok, I don't mind,” Ed said, not wanting to upset his younger brother.

“What's wrong?” Roy said, coming in behind Al and carrying his suitcase.

“Oh it's nothing,” Ed said. “R.D. is just interested in Al's cat, you know how it is...cats and dogs, do the math.”

Al carried the cat carrier into the living room and sat it on the coffee table. He opened the door and squatted down and peered inside.

“Are you ok Sofie?” he asked. “Did R.D. scare you? He was just curious.”

Ed stood back in the arch of the doorway with his hands on his hips and shook his head. Roy took Al's suitcase to his room and set it on the bed. Ed watched Al try to coax his cat out of its carrier and folded his arms.

“I'm going to need to get some sand,” Al said. “I didn't want to lug what I had at home on the train. I figured I could just transmute a pan for her once I got here.”

“Where are you going to put it?” Ed asked.

“Well the bathroom should be ok,” Al said.

“But wait a minute, if you're going to let her wander around R.D. has to stay locked up,” Ed said.

“Oh,” Al hadn't thought about that. “Well maybe they can take turns being locked up, I can keep her in my bedroom some.”

“If R.D. is locked up someone has to check on him and take him out instead of his just going out on his own through the dog door,” Ed stated.

“Oh,” Al said. “Well I can help. Can we block up the dog door? I don't want Sofia getting out, she might get lost.”

“Why don't you just keep the cat and its pan in your bedroom with the door closed, problem solved,” Ed shrugged.

“That's not very fair,” Al said and then smiled as the cat ventured out of the carrier and into his arms. He cuddled her up, stood and turned to face his brother. “Sofia is a guest, not a prisoner.”

Ed quirked up an eyebrow.

“R.D. lives here, this is his home,” Ed said. “He has more right to wander the house than she does,” Ed pointed at the cat.

Roy walked into the middle of an Elric glare-off and almost dove for cover.

“Ok, what's going on?” the General said.

“Ed wants me to keep Sofia locked up in my room for my entire visit,” Al complained. “I don't think that's good for her, what if she gets lonely?”

“Al wants to lock R.D. up to let the cat roam around,” Ed countered. “We'd have to block up the dog door and check on him to take him out instead of letting him go out by himself. Besides, what if R.D. gets lonely? He's use to sitting on your lap all evening.”

“Well maybe we should let R.D and the cat meet,” the General ventured. “Perhaps they can come to an agreement we can't.”

“That's a good idea,” Ed said.

“I don't know,” Al said and cuddled his cat closer.

Ed walked over to the den and opened the door and a black and white bullet shot out. It zipped straight into the living room and right to Al's feet.

“Hi R.D.,” Al said, watching him nervously. The cat in Al's arms began to growl a bit. “Ooooh, she's not happy, catch him Ed,” Al said, trying to edge away, but R.D. followed him. Ed rolled his eyes and moved forward, bending down to grab R.D. But Sofia decided enough was enough, she launched out of Al's arms, used Ed's bowed head as a spring platform and flew to the floor right at Roy's feet. Roy danced out of the way and R.D. yodeled in joy and took off after her. Sofia decided running pell mell down the hall was a good idea.

“Sofia!” Al cried.

“R.D.!” Ed cried.

Roy watched the two race by and sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets and waited for thuds and crashes that were sure to follow. He could tell what part of the house they were in by either Ed or Al's yelps and curses. Well to be fair all the curses were Ed's. After a few moments, Ed's head appeared around the doorway of the living room.

“You weren't attached to that stand and globe in the bedroom overly, were you?” he asked and sucked in his lower lip. Roy arched an eyebrow. “Ok, ok, I'm fixing it,” Ed said and disappeared again.

**

A truce was reached when R.D. got close enough to be slapped and decided that getting that close wasn't necessary anymore. Sofia was content with the fact he kept a respectful distance and also by the fact she could sit on top of the credenza and lord over him. Al got away with minor scratches on his forearm and Ed had a bruised tail bone from falling on his rump when R.D. had charged between his legs at some point and surprised him, _(chasing a dog in your socked feet on hardwood is not a good idea)_. Roy was completely unscathed having stayed out of the whole mess.

They had a dinner of sandwiches and sat around getting caught up a bit in the living room and all decided to have an early night of it. Al was tired from the train ride, Ed had class and Roy had work. But once Roy got Ed into the bedroom things changed and it turned out what Roy wanted was to get his hands all over his lover.

Ed was cooperative, he let the General have his clothing piece by piece. He leaned back against the wardrobe, naked, and let the General run his hands up and down his sides and stomach and chest.

“So...still think I'm going to pot?” Ed breathed as Roy's hand strayed lower on his stomach and Roy's palm covered his cock. Roy pressed and squeezed him gently. Ed shuddered in a breath, his head thunked against the wardrobe.

“Never,” Roy whispered, rubbing Ed up and down slowly.

“Want to fuck me here?” he husked, his golden eyes lazily searching his lover's face.

“It's a thought,” Roy purred. “I haven't done you against a wall in years, when was the last time?”

“Not long after I got my automail back,” Ed said softly. “We'd come home from a cafe, you'd let me drink a little too much wine. We made it into the living room, you left my shirt and jacket on me, but had me wrap my legs around your waist. It was...exciting, I felt wanted.”

Roy's chest heaved once, his eye went half mast. He pushed his face under Ed's chin, opened his mouth over Ed's throat as he continued to rub Ed gently between his legs.

Ed rumbled and purred, humping against Roy's hand.

“You're being a fucking tease,” Ed whined. “Damn Roy, do more than that.”

Roy chuckled against Ed's throat and moved up to look at him again.

“The oil is over there on the bedside,” Roy said and kissed down the side of Ed's nose, dragged his tongue over Ed's lips. “You want me to leave you here and go get it?”

“No...yes...why the fuck do you ask me to think when you got your hand on my cock?” Ed groused. “Let's just get in bed dammit, this wardrobe is hard on my back. No, wait, I didn't say that. I can take it, I'm still young,” Ed grinned mischievously. Roy snorted, gave him a hard squeeze and Ed half yelped. The General pushed away and went toward the bed. Ed growled and darted after him, tackling him and they both toppled onto the bed. There was wrestling and grunting and rolling around. In the end Roy ended up on his back and his captor leered down at him.

“I won,” Ed chortled. “I get to top!”

“I don't think that's how it works,” the General snorted.

“Of course it does,” Ed said haughtily. “He who can pound all comers gets to be the boss. It's just the laws of nature.”

“Is that so? Ok I'll let you top, you can sit in my lap,” Roy smirked.

“That's more like...HEY,” Ed said. “That's not topping, that's just sitting on top!”

“Who says the definition of being on top means you get to do the deed?” the General grinned. “If we are going with the definition of being on top as being the dominant, well we both know who that is. Age, rank, experience...these are all things that should, by right, be equated in when the issue of dominance is applied. Therefore, no matter the situation, even when I'm being the submissive for lack of better term, I'm still on top.”

“Why does you fucking rank always factor into everything?” Ed snorted. “You know what? I say actions speak louder than words.”

Ed suddenly pushed up fast, lifted his hands long enough to clap them together and Roy yelped loudly when Ed slapped them down on his chest. Blue and white light blinded him, ozone assailed his nostrils and he felt his hair stand on end. His shirt began to unravel from around his body and it was ungodly ticklish. Roy kicked and flailed but his shirt seemed to snake up his arms and suddenly his wrists where bound tightly together. The glow faded and through the spots in his vision Roy panted and stared up at Ed.

“Yeah, weren't expecting that were you?” Ed suddenly moved off of him, grabbed him and flipped him over onto his stomach before he could protest. Ed's knee came down between his legs forcing him to part them and he heard another clap and he half shouted when Ed's hands slapped each of his butt cheeks. His pants went the way of his shirt, and his eye widen to it's fullest when his legs were dragged further apart. He shoved up on his elbows and turned to look over his shoulder as much as he could. His pants were now tethers that held each of his ankles bound to the bedposts. One more clap and slap and his long briefs disintegrated into so much unraveled thread lying bunched up against the side of his thighs.

Ed hummed behind him and Roy shuddered when two hands, one warm, one cool, ran up the back of his thighs, over his ass and onto the small of his back.

“Damn General, for an old man you still got it,” Ed cooed.

“So you think a mere show of force validates your theory about being on top,” Roy said, he shivering a little involuntarily when Ed's fingers dug into his back just at either side of his spine in an impromptu massage. “You think because you have special talents this makes you somehow more suited to the role of dominant?”

“Yeah, keep talking,” Ed murmured and bent over Roy's back.

Roy swallowed and shivered again when warm lips touched him just below his shoulder blade.

“You're not going to talk me out of fucking you, might as well just accept it. We always go through this song and dance, every goddamn time. I've accepted it, just be the bigger man General.” Ed stretched over him and Roy watched as he plucked the bottle of oil off the bedside table. Ed laid the bottle against Roy's side and moved fully between Roy's parted legs.

He lowered himself, his bare flesh all along the bare flesh of Roy's back. Ed's erection pressing into the cleft of Roy's ass. His lips found Roy's shoulders and began a slow trail along one, across his back with a bit of extra attention to his nape, and then onto the other. Ed squeezed a hand under Roy, his fingers found and began to press and rub a nipple in a slow circular motion.

Roy groaned and then he tensed up a little and squeezed Ed between his butt cheeks. Ed shuddered out a breath and laughed softly.

“Damn General, that is some fine control, do that again,” Ed purred into his ear.

“I can do that all you like,” Roy said. “If you'll put a little oil there and rock back and forth I can...”

“Nu uh,” Ed snorted. “No substitutes for the real deal, I'm going in Roy. Going in... you can try to worm your way out of it as much as you like, but you're still going to get it and you're still going to come and you're still going to howl like a dog before I'm through.”

Roy let his forehead thump on the bed. His bound wrists were pulled against his chest and he sighed.

“You know that's real fucking nice, just sound so goddamn put out,” Ed suddenly moved off of him.

Roy raised his head and looked over his shoulder.

“What? Ed, I...” But there was a clap, another flash of light and he was free. He blinked in confusion and rolled onto his side, reaching toward Ed but Ed pulled away quickly and got off the bed.

“Fuck it,” Ed said and threw his hands up, heading for the bathroom. “I give up, too bad for you I don't feel like being your fuck toy tonight,” Ed disappeared into the bathroom and slammed the door.

Roy said up and stared after him.

Ed leaned back on the door, crossed his arms over his chest and let his head drop back against it as he closed his eyes.

 _He's been your only lover?_

Ed sucked his bottom lip and rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

 _Yeah, yeah he has because I don't count that other place. That was fake and it means nothing. He's all I know. Everything I know he taught me. What if he only taught me what he wanted me to know? I have no basis for comparison do I? Sometimes he jokes about how he's made me such a good lover, but what if he only made me a lover to his own tastes? What if that fake place and that...thing showed me there is something more too it? NO, I don't want that to be my comparison._

Ed heard Roy slide off the bed, he heard the sound of Roy's bare feet on the hardwood and then there was a soft tap on the door.

“Ed?” Roy called quietly. “Ed will you let me in?”  
 _  
I already have, you bastard. You are about as far in as you can get. You are wrapped around me, both inside and out. How can I possibly let you any further in when you know me better than anyone? Did you fucking use that against me?_

“Ed?” Roy called again. “Did I upset you? Hey, talk to me, open the door.”

 _Ha! I talk to you until I'm blue in the face for all the good it does me. You say I only hear what I want to hear. Well you hear what I have to say and somehow always turn it around on me, how is that any better?_

“I'm sorry,” Roy muttered into the crack between the door and door jamb. “Won't you at least let me see your face to apologize?”

Ed closed his eyes and pushed away from the door. He turned around and pulled it open, opening his eyes and raising them to Roy's face.

“I'm sorry,” Roy said. “I didn't mean it the way you took it.”

“Then how did you mean it?” Ed said flatly.

For once the General seemed at a loss for words.

 _Oh, so he doesn't know everything, he only thinks he does._

Roy ran a hand over his face, then he folded his own arms.

“You know I don't mean to hurt you,” he said. “I'm not really sure what set you off...I mean it was no different than how we usually play. I don't mean to sound derogatory either Ed. So I'm apologizing and I’m not sure why.”

“Then it's not much of a fucking apology,” Ed sneered. “Get the fuck out of my way, I'm going to bed.”

“You're being extremely unfair right now,” Roy said, his jaw tightening. “But fine, be my guest,” and he stepped aside.

Ed marched past him, stopped and turned back to him. Roy unfolded his arms, gave him a slight lift of his eyebrow and frowned.

 _I'm not being really being fair am I? Do I need to be? Has he always been fair? FUCK, listen to myself...I love him! He loves me. It's that fucking prince's fault. I'm going to fucking waste that bastard. Beat his goddamned nose so far into this skull he'll be breathing out the back of his head._

Ed reached out and snagged Roy's hand, tugging him close.

“Yeah ok, I'm not being fair,” he mumbled. “I'm in a weird mood. When you sigh like that it's like you're just humoring me or tolerating me. I know, I know...I even said it...every goddamn time Roy. It just hit me wrong tonight, I don't know why.” Ed ended on a shrug.

Roy pulled his hand free then wrapped his arms around Ed's shoulders, Ed tilted his face up to him and Roy kissed his forehead, his eyelids, the side of his nose and his lips. When he pulled back and Ed blinked his eyes back open Roy smiled.

“So you want to try again? I promise to be a very willing bed toy,” the General cooed.

 _He loves me, so what if he's been my only love? I only need one._

“Do I get to tie you back up?” Ed asked.

“Hey, bed toy, remember? You can play with your toy however you want,” the General grinned and then squawked as he was tossed back on the bed.  
  


* * *


	17. Chapter 17

“It's going to be fine,” a familiar and loved voice whispered in his ear. Ed turned slightly from the spectacle in front of him, of students rushing about to set up booths and stands. The General winked his solitary eye. He was wearing his cap and dress uniform and he looked marvelous. His presence was such relief and Ed cursed the fact he couldn’t kiss him.

A sudden burst of light took everyone by surprise and all heads swiveled in its direction. Al looked up, grinned sheepishly and waved. He was helping Ed's class set up their booth and had decided to be decorative. Before he knew it, he was swamped with students from other classes begging him to come and help with their booths.

“That is exactly the reason I said I wouldn't help them,” Ed nodded toward Al's predicament, “I'd be transmuting fancy booths all day.”

The General chuckled and patted his shoulder.

“You have this Professor job down pat,” he grinned.

“What can I say?” Ed grinned back, “I'm gifted.”

Seth and Daniel charged over, R.D. running frantically along side them, his leash held tightly in Seth's hand.

“Professor,” Seth panted, “Okay, the football team says they get two spaces for their booth and Mr. Harding says they only get one because the band has already got their booth set up and Coach Taylor said it was poor planning on your part and then he and Mr. Harding started having heated words.” Seth nodded, eyes large behind his glasses.

“They're cussing,” Daniel translated.

Roy slapped Ed on the back and grinned huge.

“Gifted, you say? Diplomacy is now called for, I seem to remember you have a failing grade in that department,” Roy simpered.

“You shut the fuck up,” Ed snapped, then clamped his mouth closed and looked sidelong at Daniel and Seth. Seth was blushing but Daniel was grinning toothily. Ed let out a groan.

“Fine, let me go play peace keeper, lead the way boys,” Ed gestured and the pair rushed off ahead of him with Ed following along behind. R.D. kept trying to wait for him, but got dragged along by the boys.

“This is so much fun,” the General said to Ed's retreating back.

****

Alex found him standing beside the bleachers, worrying a single glove between his hands. He stood beside him and clasped his hands behind his back. Alex made an impressive figure in a three piece suit and looked both formidable and respectable. They glanced at each other again and then back out over the fields.

“I'm glad to hear you've come to your senses,” the former State Alchemist said to the General, “It means so much to Edward, and to yourself, though you would deny it.”

“It's been a while,” Roy sighed, “I actually practiced,” He shook his head, “Ed and I drove out into the middle of nowhere and I shot off random flares and aerial bursts. I just hope I can pull this off.”

“You worry too much old friend,” the large man smiled, “You've never let Edward down before.”

Roy shrugged and glanced up at the bleachers.

“I've been informed that I'm to be in position no later than three o'clock,” the General grinned, “Until then, I am left to my own devices. You know Ed was holding out on us all these years, I think he would have made a fine commander in the army.”

“Indeed,” Alex intoned, “I was well informed of the parameters of my demonstration, or should I say demolition? What do you know of this Hydro Alchemist who will also be performing?”

“Otto?” Roy said, “He's a pleasant enough sort, you'll like him. He was a Major in the west back before General Alton took over there, do you remember Alton? He was a great lover of hunting. He and Riza's grandfather use to go out to that lodge in Cartwell all the time,” Roy fiddled with his glove some more, but hadn't put it on.

“I can't say I recall... look at that,” Alex raised his hand to point and Roy lifted his head, looking in the direction his attention was being called to. Edward was walking across the field and trailing behind him in a uniform row was a good number of his students.

“They're like ducklings,” Roy chuckled, “I hear tale Edward is the envy of many of his fellow teachers because the very same boys don't behave half as well out of his sight.”

Ed stopped, turned around and put his hands on his hips. He leaned forward and said something to the first boy in the row, then lifted his hand and pointed at the rest of them. The first boy shrugged and turned to speak to the boy behind him, and it went like that throughout the entire lineup. The boy in the very back waved his hand at Ed and Ed raised his hand and waved back, then noticed himself doing it and dropped it. He made elaborate shooing motions and the group sulkily dispersed, so Ed turned and continued on his way. He only got a few feet before the line began to sneakily reform.

“A true leader of men,” Alex said with a laugh.

****

“Ed!” Al said, looking a bit wild eyed and desperate. He made a grab for his older brother's sleeve as Ed happened by, “You've got to help me!”

Ed made a low whistle and shook his head sympathetically.

“You know Al, you always complain and say I interfere in your life too much as it is,” Ed said and gently extracted his sleeve from his brother's desperate grip, “You also know I've told you before I think you're too nice and people take advantage of you. I think this is a good lesson for you, I don't think I should be bailing you out.”

“There are thirty-six booths,” Al wailed, “If you want me to be in any decent shape for your demonstration I need you to help me,” Al pleaded.

“If you let me down, well... I'll be disappointed of course,” Ed said, studying his gloves, “Learn to say 'no' Alphonse, really, it's not that difficult. I know you can, as I am often on the receiving end of your ventures into denial. I'm the only one you seem to be able to inflict it on.”

“You are a very cruel brother,” Al said and ran a hand through his bangs, “Fine, I'll finish up this one I'm working on and everyone else can do it the old fashioned way. After all, teacher said to use your hands when you could.”

Ed stood by as Al finished up the booth he had started and then turned to slink away. Ed followed him, directing him toward a good hiding place and they went to stand just under the lean of the bleachers.

“Please don't go over the plans again,” Al said, holding up his hands when Ed opened his mouth, “I know what I'm supposed to do and when I'm supposed to do it, follow your own advice and don't bail me out.”

Ed snorted and shook his head.

“So... how are things in East City? I mean, how are things going? Any more dates?” Ed asked.

Al sighed and rubbed his cheek a moment.

“No, but a couple of weeks before I left to come here, this building contractor showed up,” Al growled, “He acted really familiar with the Colonel and she went to dinner with him. I don't know what to think. She even called him by his first name and I didn't like that,” Al glanced at his brother, “You think I should be worried? I think maybe I should be worried. I mean, he showed up and then suddenly she was too busy for anything. I don't know if she went out with him again, I have no reason to hang around in her office unless I have a job or I'm summoned. I started to ask Pharr about it, but I wasn't sure how he'd feel being made a spy on his commanding officer,” Al tugged his lower lip and fixed Ed with a rather worried look, “I think I should head out tomorrow instead of the end of the week and get back, who knows what's going on?”

His elder brother did some kind of tight lipped little spasm and looked all around before looking at Al again and forcing a rather obviously fake smile.

“If you think that's best of course,” Ed said, trying to keep the whine out of his voice.

“You don't want me to leave tomorrow,” Al sighed, “You want me to hang out at the house waiting for you to get off work each day so you can come home and eat my cooking and argue theory with me until we go to bed.”

“That's not it,” Ed said, “Well okay maybe a little. It's just when you visit you always cut them short for some reason or another, or you just come to take care of your work and then I don't get to see you much either because we're both working. I'd take the rest of the week off if I could! But I only have tomorrow to spend the whole day with you and then the rest of the weekdays trying to make up the time. I know, I'm a selfish idiot; you don't have to tell me. Don't look at me like that.”

Al glanced away and Ed sighed.

“Yes okay, it does sound like someone could be moving in on your territory,” Ed said, “You know what Al, you've got to tell her.”

“I can't,” Al said. “I mean, I can't just come out and say it.”

“Why not?” Ed asked, “You're going to have to say something eventually,” he folded his arms.

“So did you just come out and tell Roy?” Al asked.

“No... but he came out and told me,” Ed said.

“So you didn't just come out and say anything until after you started dating,” Al said.

“We never dated,” Ed returned, “We just started... um yes, after we were dating.”

The General decided to be nosy at just that moment, ducking under the bleachers with them. Al grinned at him and Ed smiled, raising an eyebrow.

“What's the pow wow boys?” the General said with a grin of his own, “Everyone knows standing under the bleachers means serious business... or that you're going to make out.”

Al laughed as Ed scowled and the General sidled over to his lover, giving him a quick kiss on the forehead.

“I was just telling Al he should come out and tell Riza how he feels,” Ed said and folded his arms, looking toward his younger brother.

Al gave an immediate look of sibling betrayal, but it softened out and he glanced at Roy, because in truth, he did want the General's opinion.

“How do you feel, Al?” the General asked, pushing his hands into his pockets, _(to keep them off the Professor)_.

“The stakes have been upped,” Ed said before Al could answer, “Another man has entered the picture.”

“Is that so? Anyone I know?” the General questioned.

“His name is Macklin Talbert,” Al said, “I don't know him myself; he's an outside building contractor that the military has hired to design some new barracks.”

“What makes you think he's a threat?” the General asked.

“It's not so much that he's a threat,” Al said, studying the bleacher beams, “But he's so familiar with her and they went to dinner a couple of times before I came up to Central for the exhibition.”

“Did you go out with the Colonel as well? Or did she put you off to go out with this man?” The General said.

“No, it's nothing like that,” Al said, “We did go out before I left, and she said she'd miss me for the book reading that we had thought about attending, but that's just it, that's all we do. We go out and eat and talk about music and literature, or dogs and guns. I feel like I'm running in circles.”

“All the more reason to make the first move,” Ed said, “I think if she knew you were looking for more than friendship, things might change.”

“Maybe, but who says that's for the better?” Al said plaintively, “What if I scare her off? You know, if I can't have what I... prefer, then I'd want her friendship, I don't want to risk losing it.”

The General was looking at the Professor and the Professor noticed.

“What?” he said, putting his hands on his hips.

“Don't let your brother tutor you in first moves,” the General said, “He's always been the bottle-it-up-inside kind, but he does make a good point.”

“You think I should tell her?” Al said, eyes getting a little round, “I remember when you dated her... I don't mean to pry, but do you think it would work?”

“Ah, about that,” Roy said and cast a sidelong glance at Ed who returned it with an indifferent look, “I wasn't at my best then, if you must know. Riza and I came to an understanding about our relationship; what she saw in me wasn't me per se, but an ideal. I don't think you'll run into that situation. In a lot of ways, you have been with her longer than any of us. If anything, that should be to your advantage. Don't let me or your brother talk you into anything that you don't feel comfortable with yourself. Riza is sometimes a very difficult woman to deal with; she likes to shut herself off, not like Ed, but in different ways.

“It's common that displays of emotion are seen as a sign of weakness, more so in women. You can see where this train of thought is leading. Riza is so in control of herself, because she had to be, that I don't think she realizes it anymore. So, if she has feelings for you, I'm not sure she would know how to convey them. And you yourself, Alphonse; dancing around the issue and taking it slow _looking_ for some sign; you might as well dance forever.

“No, definitely something has to give, and I have to say... it would have to be you.”

Al seemed to work that over and after a moment, he smiled.

“Thanks,” he said, “I think you're right.”

It was then that the booth builders he'd abandoned found him and Al cast pleading eyes at his brother, who shrugged in a 'what-can-I-do-about-it?' way. Al got led off by his hands and some prettily worded pleas while Roy shook his head, looked at Ed and smiled.

“Not at your best, where you?” Ed said, “That's not like you.”

“I had this six year off period,” the General said, “I can't imagine why.”

****

“What the fuck is _that_?”

“You're from Risembool; I assume you know good and well what that is.”

“What? Bastard! I know what it is, but what is _it_? I mean, what is it doing here?”

“I suspect it's the football team’s mascot. It's so good to see that the old traditions still live strong and steadfast in the hearts and minds of the youth today.”

“It reminds me, I so miss sausage with my breakfast, I get terrible heartburn from pork.”

“Why the fuck is it _here_?!”

“You better tone that down, I saw the Dean walking around earlier you know.”

“My guess would be that the football team is going to have a greased pig competition.”

“Pigs and grease make me think of bacon, another pork product I must refrain from.”

“Well it looks like it has a mind of its own. Walking a hog that big on a harness is just asking for trouble... and there it is, it's eating that booth.”

“What the FUCK?!”

“The speed that young man can achieve is startling.”

“He had years of practice running for his life.”

“It appears that Alphonse finds this very amusing, I believe he is pointing and laughing at Edward.”

“Looks like some organization is out of its baked goods.”

“Hope the football team has deep pockets; they'll be paying for that.”

“Who is that gentleman in the... tailored sweat suit?”

“I believe he is the head of the physical education department.”

“He's the bane of Ed's existence.”

“Oh dear, that can't be good.”

“It is amazing the skills of diplomacy that Edward has learned since the days of his youth. His talent for the retention of knowledge is truly edifying.”

“The Professor's diplomacy is... unique.”

“Your highness, I didn't see you standing there.”

“Prince.”

“The next time you stop by the house, I have a delightful tea I purchased from an import shop you simply must try.”

“What do you suppose he's going to do?”

****

The Professor ran a hand through his bangs. Around him stood the members of the Chorus watching mournfully as Matilda, the football team's mascot, dined heartily on what would have been their bake sale.

“What are we going to do?” said one of the boys to the professor's right, “My mom baked those cookies all day yesterday, we don't have time to make any more.”

“My grandma made the sweet rolls,” said another boy.

The three members of the football team were putting their backs into Matilda's own prolific backside with little success.

“It's not unfixable,” the Professor said, “We'll do something, I'll think of something, it will be okay.”

 _Please stop looking at me like that, I'll make it better._

“But how?” said the same boy who's grandmother had bestowed sweet rolls on him to make some money for his club, “Can you bake? And there isn’t any time.”

The Professor, while being a master of many things, _(and most of them rather skillfully. He was the master of a few other things that weren't quite as skillful, but since his incompetence was better than many people's best shot, he considered himself a master still)_ but baking wasn't one of them. He did however, know some one who _could_ bake, and quite well at that. His eyes picked his younger brother's form out across the field.

“Give me just a bit,” he assured the crestfallen chorus members, “I have an idea.”

****

“What in the world...” Al managed as his elder brother snagged his elbow and pulled him toward the academy. “You want me to _bake_?”

“Not just bake, perform a miracle, you were good at it in the past,” Ed told him, pushing in through a side door, “Come on, the cafeteria is this way.”

“Brother, your obvious insanity aside, what you're wanting is impossible,” Al pleaded as Ed steered him down the hallway, “There’s no time to bake enough of anything to replace...”

“Who said you were actually going to bake?” Ed said with a somewhat manic grin, “You know _how_ to bake, so that should be enough to... fake it.”

“No... you don't mean...”

“Baking with alchemy, come on admit it, you've always wanted to try.”

Al groaned as Ed pulled him through the cafeteria doors, behind the counters and into the kitchens. They were large and airy, with large ovens to one end, sinks lining the back walls and metal pantries lining the sides. Ed went to the pantries immediately and began throwing open doors. He moved from one to the other, pulling things out and tossing them at the large, stainless steel line of tables that dominated the center of the room.

“Flour, sugar, here's cinnamon, you can use that right?” Ed said manically, “What else goes into baked things? Eggs and butter?” He turned and strode for the large industrial refrigerator near the door where they had come in.

“Brother, how am I supposed to alchemize baked goods? What am I supposed to alchemize?!”

“What's your best recipe?”

“Well... I make a lot of muffins at home...”

“Good! Muffins it is! Icing with them maybe?” Ed carried a carton of eggs and a block of butter to the table.

“You forgot the milk,” Al said drolly, surveying the ingredients scattered over the shining metal.

“No, I didn't,” Ed said with eerie cheerfulness, “these muffins are for the lactose intolerant.”

Al rolled his eyes and then gasped as Ed ripped open a flour bag and dumped the contents unceremoniously onto the table.

“Muffins don't have icing.”

“Why not? That's boring; the best part is the icing.”

“You're thinking cupcakes.”

“Make those too...”

“This is ridiculous,” Al exploded. “They won't even be _cooked_!”

“Necessity is the mother of invention, alchemy started in the kitchen,” Ed yelled, breaking eggs and throwing them into the flour and tossing the shells toward the sink. “Adapt, Alphonse! By our very nature, we humans innovate and adapt! You can do this, I have faith,” he grabbed the block of butter and tossed it into the pile and then up ended the tin of cinnamon over the whole mess. “Show me the brilliance you dazzled them with, Al; make me a believer.” Al wasn't sure he liked the manic gleam in his brother's eye.

“I... this is... FINE,” Al grabbed for the block of butter, managed to smush a corner of it off and stared at a clean spot of table, after a moment he hesitantly started an array.

“Now you're getting into it, a butter array, genius!”

“It's cleaner than trying to draw with egg yolks, shut up I'm concentrating.”

Ed bounced up onto his toes, leaning across the table to look at Al's array. He opened his mouth as if to offer a suggestion, but promptly shut it at Al's glare.

“Stand back; I'm not sure what's going to happen.”

“Muffins are going to happen.”

“Says you. Get back. Okay, here goes nothing.”

“Have I ever told you how proud I am to have you as a brother?”

“Good, you can hire me a lawyer when people get sick off these muffins! Now be quiet, I can't transmute with all your yapping.”

Under lit from the light of alchemy, Al was almost sure his brother could double for Karl Borisloff, the actor who played the mad scientist in all those 'B' horror movies.

Ed cackled and held a muffin aloft, “It's perfect!” he crowed.

Al eyed the pile of transmuted bakery items more warily. “So,” Al said slowly, “gonna' try one?”

“Of course,” Ed said, “You are an excellent cook; they'll be fabulous.” He took a big bite of the 'muffin' in his hand, then promptly gagged, hacked and spit it onto the floor.

Al rubbed his forehead and shook his head. “I told you! There is no way this is going to work.”

“They look cooked, but once you get them in your mouth, they sort of disintegrate into their base ingredients,” Ed said, nose wrinkling, “But that doesn't matter, we have a finished product!” he gestured at the pile on the table.

“What are you talking about? People can't eat these!”

“Well it won't matter, will it? I mean, they won't try to eat them until after they buy them. We can just put an 'all sales final' sign on the table.”

“Brother! That is dishonest and nothing to be teaching these boys!”

“Al, this exhibition is going to come off without a hitch, do you hear me? Without a HITCH! I consider these part of the experience; they can be touted as alchemy muffins! People will buy them by the bag full! We'll have a disclaimer that we told them they were alchemy muffins... and therefore unstable. The chorus has their bake sale money and everyone is happy! HAPPY!”

“Boy, the stress has gone right to your brain.”

“It's not my brain I'm worried about, it's my reputation!”

“You really have grown up.”

“Watch it,” Ed hissed.

Al watched Ed commandeer a large metal pan from a rack above the sink and begin to pile the muffins into it. He followed Ed back out to the exhibition grounds and watched the boys of the chorus all cheer him like a war hero back from the fields of battle. Then invariably, he joined the line that stood taking notes of Ed's every move, all for different reasons.

“Did he raid the pantry in the kitchens?” the General asked.

“Um, no,” Al answered.

“Did the two of you run out to the corner market?” Alex asked. “That was very good timing, did you take a back route I'm unfamiliar with?”

“No, not that,” Al said with a smile and a nod.

“You pulled them magically out of thin air,” Otto said with a small laugh.

“You could say that,” Al said, avoiding eye contact with the General.

“I wonder what alchemized food will taste like?” said the Prince.

“I don't suggest you buy one,” Al commented. It occurred then to Al who had asked the last question and he began changing up his order in the line until he stood right beside the Prince.

“I didn't know you were going to be here, Your Highness,” he said with a smile, “I hope you won't mind if I ask you a few questions about your country’s alchemic practices; as you know, I'm very interested in your 'pharmacy' and hope to discuss it with you in length.”

The Prince looked a little nervous at the mention, his eyes darting back over the field to where Ed was transmuting the chorus booth's broken table. He smiled thinly and tilted his head.

“I think that today's activities will be very exciting, don't you agree? I have never attended an exhibition at a boy's academy; tell me what can be expected.”

“Oh,” Al said, “Well, it's just to show off to the parents, mostly. There will be a demonstration of the marching band and the chorus will sing, of course. Many of the booths will be displaying things the boys have made in class. It's probably a much more vested interest to the people who have children enrolled here. Are there any Xingian alchemists in our country?”

The prince shifted foot to foot and looked anywhere but in Alphonse's direction.

“In my country, we have exhibitions of a different nature. There would be a great, whirling dragon puppet and many kites,” he said, “Also, fireworks. Are there likely to be fireworks here?”

“Only of the alchemic variety,” Al said, “Your Highness, in what philosophy is pharmacy based? I'm not sure what equivalency would be in a medical sense.”

“I would be hard pressed to answer your questions, Alphonse. As you are well aware, like alchemy, pharmacy takes many years of intensive study.”

“But you know pharmacists,” Al pressed.

“There are pharmacists in the royal court,” the prince said uncomfortably, taking a step away.

Alphonse stepped with him. “Could you arrange a visit, perhaps? I mean, shouldn't you have a personal physician with you? I'm not trying to be pushy, I just think that in your best interest that might be advisable. Suppose something was to happen, then you would be dependant on the Amestris doctors for your care and I'm sure you would be more comfortable with one of your own countrymen in attendance.”

“It is a point well taken,” the prince agreed, watching Alphonse's brother being mobbed by his students and their parents, “I will definitely consider it.”

“You could arrange for me to meet with your physician then,” Alphonse said hopefully, “I would be extremely grateful, you understand. If there is anything I could do for you in return...”

“No thanks are necessary for a service I have yet to perform,” the prince said, half bowing in Al's direction and backing away, “I think I'll take a tour of the grounds, it seems that the festivities are underway.”

“I could be your escort,” Al said with a smile, “I can act in my brother's stead as your cultural liaison since he's otherwise occupied; it would be my honor.”

“Would it?” the prince said weakly, “I'm sure you're busy and I don't wish to be a burden to you during this celebration as well...”

“I insist,” Al said, advancing on the retreating prince, “It's the least I can do. After all, you're brother's friend; that makes us friends too.”

“You drive a very hard bargain,” the prince murmured, “how can I resist?”

“Excellent,” Al said, falling into step beside him, “The junior science club has constructed a working miniature volcano; shall that be our first stop?”

The prince merely bowed his head, gave one furtive glance toward the Professor, _(who hadn't looked their way once, thus missing his royal predicament)_ , and followed Alphonse toward a booth that smelled of sulfur.

****

The Professor sat a large cafeteria pan full of muffins on the reconstructed table. The boys and their chorus teacher, _(who'd arrived just after the catastrophe and was thus spared the brunt of teenage male angst)_ gathered around and peered at them. For a moment, there was nothing but silence, then one of the boys reached into the pan and took out one of the muffins, sniffed it and started to open his mouth.

“Don't eat that!” Ed yelped and then smiled sheepishly, “Those are for selling. If you eat them, then you're eating your profits,” he covered smoothly. The boy eyed him and slowly put the muffin back into the pan.

“How did you make so many so fast?” Miss Dobson, the chorus teacher asked, “Were they in the cafeteria? I don't think it's right for us to take the academy’s muffins...”

“Oh no, it's alright. If need be, I can compensate the kitchen for the ingredients, but these are fresh,” Ed smiled, “Baked from scratch, my brother Alphonse's recipe.”

“I'm really indebted to you, Professor Elric,” the young woman said with a smile, “It's very kind of you to step in and help out the boys, I'm sorry I was late...”

“That's not a problem,” Ed said, starting to edge away from the table as a few parents walked up, “Good luck,” he said, rushing away. He really should have told them to get money in hand before customer put muffin in mouth. He noticed the line up standing there watching him and he started toward them, _(to give them a piece of his mind for standing there gawking instead of helping)_ , when he noticed a certain Xingian prince in the presence of a certain younger brother. That seemed the priority, so he altered his route and had almost reached the pair when Mr. Thaxton, the band director, jumped into his path.

“Professor Elric, good god man, I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he said, grabbing Ed's arm and abruptly changing his trajectory about seventy-five degrees, “I was thinking we could line the band up around the east side of the building and they could play 'March of the Night Brigade' as they made their entrance across the field...”

“Oh, is that so?” Ed mumbled distractedly, craning his neck to see Al and Ling moving on to the next booth at the far edge of the field. It struck him as Miss Bloom came racing up to trot at his side that if he didn't do something about that, and quick, Al would probably be on a train to Xing in the morning. He tried desperately to send a telepathic message to Roy to go and break up Alphonse's little espionage, but it was too late. He found himself standing in the back field with a lot of instrument cases and a group of boys who looked hot in their tall, fuzzy hats.

“I was thinking we'd start out with a regular formation and break into something a bit more modern as we approached the field. Our baton marshal has had some excellent ideas and choreography,” Mr. Thaxton waved a tall, lanky, bespectacled boy over, who looked at Ed the way a finch looked at the inside of a cat's mouth.

“This is Hubert. Hubert, you know Professor Elric of course,” Mr. Thaxton said, slapping the boy on the arm. Ed watched him tremble like a twig in a strong breeze as the boy swallowed and nodded to Ed.

“As I was saying, we are going to start with the 'March of the Night Brigade,” Thaxton thrumped, “and when we gain the field, I'm going to let them play a little melody that Hubert here has worked up. It's jazz isn't it? Yes, jazz. We want to show the parents that while we are grounded in tradition, we aren't afraid to kick up our heels now and again.”

Ed was finally listening to the man speak, _(or at least making a concerted effort to)_ , and he was really trying to participate in the conversation, but in reality, he wondered just what it was about _him_ that made the man think he needed to be briefed on both the band’s marching formation and play list. He grasped desperately for something logical and semi-intelligent to say as his distraction took deadly advantage and his career oriented mind fumbled around.

“I know 'March of the Night Brigade,” Ed interjected, still trying to see where his brother and that bastard prince had gotten to, _(okay not technically a bastard, if he were really a bastard, he wouldn't be in line for the throne and hence, not really a prince. How did Roy know he was a prince anyway? Did they come with credentials? It struck him that any foreign scam-artist could waltz into the country, claim royal relations and have the military kissing their butts in a matter of moments. He wondered if it worked in reverse, because if it did, he had a hell of summer break trip formulating in the back of his mind...)_ ; his mouth decided to continue with his brain's direct input.

“It's one of the General's favorite songs, he likes to play it over and over when we...” and it was here his brain caught up, _(thankfully, for both job and sanity)_ , “are at his house in his living room listening to the phonograph. Heh,” he finished off.

Miss Bloom, who had been standing quietly with the men, _(and had yet to be truly acknowledged with more than a nod)_ , spoke up.

“Mr. Thaxton, Professor Elric is needed over at the gardening booth. I was sent to get him, you don't mind, do you? This seems under control,” and she latched onto Ed's arm like a floral scented leech and began to tug him away, “I look forward to hearing the band play,” she called cheerfully, sounding like a lioness that had bagged a successful kill. She smiled at Ed and tightened her grip.

Ed tried in vain to spot Ling and Al as he was jogged over the back field and through the parking lot, back to where the majority of the exhibit booths were displayed.

“What could the gardening club possibly want with me,” he asked, double timing in a way to make the most staunch war veteran shed a tear of joyful remembrance, “I'm not even sure why Thaxon wanted me, usually the staff doesn't bother to give me the time of day and only the occasional hostile glare when I'm late for a meeting.”

“Oh Professor,” Miss Bloom simpered, “You're so funny. You know everyone admires you! The youngest Professor on staff, internationally famous, plus you have the ear of some very high ranking military personnel... what's not to love?” she smiled her brightest and most vivid 'single and mid 20's on the prowl' smile and tightened her grip again. Ed could almost feel his automail fingers going numb, and that was quite surprising considering he'd never felt them before.

****

“Let's wander about,” Otto said cheerfully, “There’s so much to see and so much to see, if you know what I mean,” he laughed pleasantly. Roy half grinned and nodded his head, indicating for Otto to lead the way. Alex tagged along behind them, intimidating anyone who got near enough to be interesting.

“You know, I've always been fascinated by these events,” Otto said to the General walking at his side, arms clasped behind his back, “It really harkens back to all those family values everyone is gun-ho about,” Otto was carrying a cane, at first Roy thought it a bit pretentious; but then who was he to judge as he was wearing _(at Ed's request)_ , his dress uniform.

“If only they were made to attend more of these functions,” Otto continued, “I am sure they'd understand just what they were doing with all those pamphlets and educational seminars.”

They neared the booth that Ed had bestowed with muffins earlier and looked at the huddle of boys, standing behind the booth, staring with some trepidation at the muffins piled in their shiny, metal corral. They turned pleading eyes on the adults as they neared and snapped off a salute, _(as they'd been taught)_ , more to Roy's uniform than the man, before they clustered back together in mournful camaraderie.

“How is it going boys?” Roy said pleasantly, _(never one to deny he adored being saluted, even if it was more to blue fabric than to his lofty achievements. Truth be told, he hadn't done anything lofty in quite a while and this band of boys would only acknowledge him as their dad's 'boss' before anything else. That irked him, it really irked him. Well, after today, if everyone survived, they'd know the name Flame Alchemist once more.)_ “Are the muffins selling well?”

“Well sir,” one of the boys said after a moment of horrified silence, “they don't seem to be doing too well.”

“They taste bad,” whispered another boy.

“And if you stare at them long enough, they look like they’re breathing,” confided a third.

“I'm sure they aren't that bad,” Roy said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a few cens, “Let me try one.”

The boys surged forward as one, eyes on the money in the General's hand, but then it seemed as if some military loyalty broke them before they reached for it. They looked at the General mournfully.

“We really advise against it, sir,” the boy with the 'breathing muffin' comment said slowly, “We'd rather not be sent to the brink or get KP duty.”

Roy chuckled and looked at Otto who smiled back, tapping his cane on the ground.

“As if I'd hold Professor Elric's baking skills against you,” the General said kindly, putting the cens on the table and selecting a muffin from the tray. He smiled reassuringly at the boys, but their eyes had grown wide in horror and they seemed to hold their breath as the General brought the muffin to his lips.

It had been a long time, quite a long time, since the General had cried in public, and he tried in vain to make it an even longer time. He couldn't quite smile because it felt as if his mouth had been sealed by a flour based cement and he thought, but was not quite certain, there was a raw egg playing a game of tag with his tonsils.

Alex laid a few cens on the table and reached for the pan, but the same military loyalty the boys had shown extended even to ex-military in the General's book. He grabbed Alex's arm and shook his head slowly before reaching into his back pocket, producing his wallet and peeling off several larger bills. He sat them on the table, picked up the pan of muffins and turned away while the boys all gasped collectively behind him. Otto, grinning, fell right into step beside him as he hurried away from the table.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” Otto cooed, “Here you are saving your lover's ass. Why, I think I might find faith in romance again.”

  
****

“I've been conducting many experiments in tissue regeneration,” Al was saying as he hurried after the prince. It struck him a bit odd that the prince was in such a hurry to examine a booth that was hosting an exhibit having to do with manure as fertilizer.

“Aromatics in lieu of vegetation?” the Prince called over his shoulder, “You Amestrisians have some funny ideas,” he said gleefully.

“No,” Al said practically running to keep up. He seriously began to wonder about the prince's hearing; it seemed that everything he said, the prince misinterpreted in the most unusual ways. He did seem to have a full grip on the Amestrisian language...

“Your Highness,” Al panted, “maybe we could visit that gardening booth? They are serving tea and actually have some tables; I could use a bit of a breather.”

The prince actually stopped and turned to him with a grin entrenched on his face as he made to pat Al's shoulder.

“With all the tea I am forced to drink daily for both my health and politeness, I find that given the opportunity not to drink it, is something I've come to relish. But far be it from me to deprive you of a cup; you certainly seem like you could use it. I will go ahead alone, painful though the thought of losing your company is, and perhaps after you've had your cup, we can find each other again.”

“Oh no,” Al said with a smile and a wave of his hand, “I'd much rather stay with you, especially since brother isn't here to do his duty. Not to say he's being negligent, but he's a bit tied up at the moment, making things run smoothly, I’m sure, and really, we've yet to discuss any pharmacy or alchemist in your coun...”

“What manner of contraption is that?” the prince interrupted loudly and sprinted away. Al stood for a moment in slack jawed amazement before rushing after him.

“Surely you have trucks in Xing,” Al called, trying to catch up.

****

Ed wasn't sure what to do with the potted pansy the gardening club had bestowed upon him, _(in an inscribed flowerpot, no less)_ and cast about desperately for a familiar face that had long left behind the heartbreak of acne. There were so many blue uniforms about, picking out the General was next to hopeless and Otto wasn't much taller than Ed himself. Alex should be sticking out like a beacon of General finding ease, but Ed wouldn’t admit, _(firstly and mostly to himself)_ , that he wasn't quite tall enough to see over the heads of the crowds around him.

He was considering uncoupling his automail arm to dislodge Miss Bloom when a familiar and lanky foreign looking man crossed his path in quite a hurry. Ed, not given to being _glad_ to see the royal nuisance, _(never, not for a moment, not for a second or a millisecond)_ , found himself calling out beseechingly.

“Prince Ling!” he yelled and turned to Miss Bloom, trying to muster an apologetic smile but failing miserably. “You'll excuse me, but cultural liaison duty calls,” he said, never being happier to spew that sewage of a title from his mouth. She frowned in disappointment but pried her claws from the steel of his right arm and Ed dashed away before she could somehow graft herself to his hip or other extraneous body part.

The prince slowed down enough to jog in place and grab Ed's arm as he hurried over, but then they were off.

“Save me from your brother,” the prince cried, “He's a persistent one and very charming to be sure. He really favors you I think, and that has been a bit tempting, but still, a promise is a promise.”

“If you so much as let your lips think about my brother, I'll personally skin you, tan you, make a football out of you and kick your ass all the way back to Xing,” Ed returned loudly as they plowed through the crowd, “But since you just saved me from the walking desperation that is an unmarried woman in a crowd of elderly bachelors, I'll do my best!”

“Jealous?” the prince said with hopeful glee as they ducked around a knot of uniforms both military blue and academy cadet grey, and headed straight for the open side door of the main academy building itself.

“No, you slit-eyed, moronic, monarch wannabe and I never will be,” Ed howled as he was yanked through the door to stand in the dim coolness of the academy hallway, clutching a potted pansy and panting.

“I like your daisy,” the prince said, the gleam off his grin brightening the gloom.

“It's a pansy, idiot,” Ed snarled and yanked his arm free of Ling's grip. He risked a quick glance out the door, but Al was nowhere to be seen. “It looks like you ditched him... you didn't tell him anything did you?” Ed demanded.

“I told him about the desert and how dry it was, and I told him about dumplings and how no one here makes them the way they make them at home. I told him about my dislike of peaches, but I don't think he was impressed. I also told him about a pharmacy technique that involves human limb regeneration,” then the prince put his hands behind his back, smiling… and waiting.

“Peaches are only good in cobbler,” Ed said nodding, still looking toward the door. Then he stiffened all over for just a moment and turned his head so fast the ends of his ponytail, had they connected with flesh, would have had the effect of hundreds of tiny razor blades. “You told him WHAT!?” The prince threw up his hands and laughed.

“Joking,” he said hurriedly, “just to see if you were paying attention. I told him nothing, not for his lack of trying. Really Professor, from what I gather, he is running some impressive experiments. I don't see the harm...”

“I do, I see plenty of harm! You don't know anything about it,” Ed said heatedly, “Just drop it, I don't feel like discussing it,” his voice turned sulky, “Shit, where the hell is the General anyway?” he sneered at the pansy in his hands.

“He was in the company of Otto and that very large man from your brother's birthday gathering,” the prince supplied, “They seemed to be getting along well. I think they were touring the exhibits.”

Ed leaned back against the wall and turned his head to regard the prince.

“You didn't have to come here, you know,” he started, “It's not exactly an event teaming in any sort of helpful cultural reference.”

“I wanted to come,” the prince said simply.

“Don't,” Ed suddenly said, “Don't tell me something that I don't need to be hearing from you. You know it hasn't slipped past me that every time you're around you find some way to get me alone. Keep your lips over there, I'm telling you this has to stop. I can't help you find what you're looking for, it's a fairy tale. Trust me when I say you're better off having nothing to do with it. Be happy with what you have, you're a prince for Pete’s sake.”

The prince smiled enigmatically and his lips parted, but out of them came the beginning and almost, but not quite off-key, opening strands of 'March of the Night Brigade'. Ed's eyes widened in astonishment even as he jumped and the Prince winced hard, gritting his teeth as if to keep the horrendous sound inside. Through the doorway began falling a pattern of shadows, once after the other and the music rose and dipped in time to their passing. The prince then quirked up the side of his mouth and took two steps to bring him to Ed's side. He leaned down toward Ed's ear as if to say something and Ed tilted it up accommodating.

His breath hitched as the prince's lips traced over it and he swallowed once before jerking away. He edged down the wall and waited for a break in the formation that he could get through.

His ear was burning, but he knew it wasn't from any idol gossip about his person being said.

****

“This IS interesting,” Otto said, cane tucked under his arm and fingers to his chin. “It seems uninterested; I heard they'd eat anything, including you and me given half a chance.”

Roy had said nothing for the past half hour as his mouth was still raw from the scrubbing it had received in the bathroom. They both watched Matilda the hog nose the cafeteria pan, pushing it back and forth with her snout. Of the muffins in the pan, she'd not taken a single one.

“There has to be some marketable factor to this,” Otto mused, “I'm almost tempted to deconstruct one and see what makes them tick, but I feel the very fabric of the universe might be threatened. You brave fellow, I think using that scrub brush from the janitorial closet was a bit extreme, who knows where it has been.” Otto gave the General's shoulder a solemn pat.

The General gave him a wane smile, glanced over his shoulder and the smile suddenly widened. The Professor came barreling up to them and shoved a potted plant in his face, panting slightly and looking a bit flushed. The General's lover has shoved flowers up his nose before, so to save face, _(literally)_ , he took the pot before the flowers petals got dangerously close to his nasal passages.

“Professor,” Otto said cheerfully, “Aren't you a sight! Having a good time? Your exhibition seems to be going very well. Look, we've made an experiment with your baked goods. Not even fit for swine, are the findings so far, and I heard tale that they move on their own?”

“This was Al's excursion into alchemic edibles, I only badgered him to do it,” Ed said, smiling weakly and avoiding Roy's eyes.

“BROTHER,” sounded behind them and they turned at once with precision enough to make the synchronized swim team jealous, _(who, coincidentally, did not have a display at the exhibition)_.

“Have you seen the Prince?” Al said, trotting up to them, “We were walking through the exhibits and got separated. I'm a bit worried because I haven't seen him since; he’s not supposed to wander around alone, is he?”

Ed sputtered.

“And why the hell not? What is he... four? No, I haven't seen him,” Ed averted his eyes again, “And I'm damn glad of it, to tell you the truth. Look Al, not even the hog will eat your muffins.”

“I told you that was a bad idea,” Al snorted, “I bet they taste like cement.”

The General cleared his throat loudly and they all looked at him. Otto smiled, but hid it quickly with his hand. As they stood there, some of the burlier boys from the football team, _(one of them would make two and a half of Ed. The helpful individual who pointed this out had nightmares of a blond wolverine with fangs for the next two weeks)_ , came over with a large metal can and gave the group admiring their mascot a salute.

Roy bowed his head slightly, for he was the only uniform among them and lapping up the attention like a cat took to cream. They sat the large can down next to Matilda who turned to push on it with her snout. They checked her harness and then one of them opened the can and took out a large double handful of what looked like axel grease. The crowd began to press around them then and everyone shuffled about, Ed finding himself backed up to the General. He felt the brief touch of fingers along his spine and then the sick twist of guilt in his stomach.

 

**

 

They watched the proceedings as Matilda went from a healthy shade of fat pig pink, to a dank and grayish color that smelled like the underside of a large truck with a bad muffler. Then one of the boys doffed his shirt and stuck out his chest and the others began to shoo back the crowd. Matilda was still forlornly nosing at the muffin pan, hoping against hope that they would suddenly turn into something edible as the crowd formed a large circle around her and her apparent captor. Her harness was then removed, but she made no move to avoid the young man as he charged up and tried to grab her around her fourteen chins. She grunted a bit in annoyance when he did so, however.

The longer they stood there and watched the young man try to wrestle a hog that outweighed him by at least one hundred pounds, the more pointless it seemed to become. Ed crossed his arms and looked at Al who shrugged and stuck his hands in his back pockets.

“It's reminds me of interpretive dance,” Otto said sidelong to Roy, “All that skin and neither of them getting anywhere.”

The General grinned, looking off to the side and Ed and Al snickered at each other. Matilda, who must have thought the snickers were directed at her grease covered self, took sudden and great offense. With an incredible display of fat control, she rolled the rings at her neck all the way down her back, dislodging her lone and ineffective subduer, then fixed her beady, black eyes in the direction of the amused menaces and gave a mighty snort. That got everyone's attention and with a speed belaying her size, _(bordering on physically impossible if the truth be told, but then again, bumblebees were in the same league)_ , she charged across the clearing in a most predictable fashion.

In the Elric corner, it became every man for himself.

For the first time in his life, Al found he rather wanted his big brother's protection, and in the same moment of revelation, Ed decided that Al was old enough, _(finally)_ , to face certain crisis on his own. After all, how else was he going to learn how to handle himself under pressure if his elder brother always bailed him out? In their haste to abandon each other to a thousand pounds of unprocessed sausage, they collided, thus making Matilda's target bigger. As Ed and Al toppled over for a proper trampling and all seemed lost, there was a sudden pop, a flash of light and the familiar _(to an alchemist, anyway)_ smell of ozone. A wall of dirt shot straight up from the ground, missing Ed's nose by bare inches and there was the sudden, dull thud of impact that rained the dirt down over Ed's and Al's heads.

Al, of course, thought that once again, his big brother had come through with an unexpected display of alchemic fortitude and Ed, on his part, thought Al's array drawing skills had reached demi-god levels of speed. The grinned at each other, _(Ed had managed to end up on top of the Elric pile)_ , and opened their mouths to congratulate the other when above their heads, Alex's voice boomed.

“Well done young man, very well done. I can see your Professor has taught you not to panic in a crisis; you have mastered basic array techniques. I think both his teaching mastery and your quick learning abilities are to be congratulated for averting what could have been an otherwise painful experience.”

There was a round of cheers and applause, and in the commotion, Ed pushed up and got to his feet, reaching a hand down to Al distractedly to help him up as well. Alex was effectively obscuring any view of he and Al's rescuer and behind him, he heard the placating moans of several members of the football team as they tried to revive their hog. Alex turned toward them then and as he did so, Ed's eyebrows rose. Seth, Daniel, Eric and Duffy were beaming up at the large man; on the ground at Seth's feet was a small piece of paper. Ed brushed himself down, swallowed his embarrassment and headed over to the quartet that had made his academic life so interesting. They saw him coming, each breaking out into a large grin.

“Professor,” Seth said as Ed approached, “I'm glad you're alright!”

“I thought you were a goner,” Duffy added, tugging the hem of his uniform jacket down.

“Did you have some childhood trauma involving pigs?” Eric asked, “Despite what Richard said, I don't think you scream like a girl.”

“I think that hog was about to show you the error in the food chain,” Daniel snickered, gleam in his eye, “It must have an iron deficiency in its diet.”

Ed knelt down and picked up the piece of paper. On it was Al's array, the one he'd taught the boys when they'd transmuted the toy horse. The paper was well creased from having been folded and grimy from riding around in a trouser pocket. Ed straightened back up and folded the array.

“Who's is this?” he asked, holding the square aloft and eyeing them each in turn, “Care to explain why you're wandering around with an array in your pocket?”

Four sets of lips clamped firmly shut and four sets of hands found their way clasped behind backs or shoved in pockets.

“Really Brother,” said Al beside him and reached over to pluck the paper from his fingers, “This isn't a time for a lecture, it's a time to say thank you,” He turned to the boys, “You'll have to forgive my older brother,” he smiled, “He's used to taking care of things, you see, and that would include the four of you. He's only acting this way because he thinks of the mischief you could get into carrying around a ready array, but believe me, despite appearances, he's very grateful. As am I, thank you very much for saving me from being a hog's doormat.”

Ed cleared his throat, worked his jaw and looked once more at the four sets of eyes trained on his face anxiously. He waved his hand and looked off to the side.

“Yes, good job, whoever did it. You make me realize I'm not wasting my time badgering you to do your homework,” he conceded.

The light of hero worship lit four sets of eyes and they all shuffled and looked pleased with themselves, elbowing each other in pre-teen embarrassment at the praise, _(they'd been the Professor's students long enough to know his brand of praise when they heard it. It wasn't handed out often and was only won with hard work, so it was something to be pleased about)_.

“I think this deserves some kind of reward,” Al pitched in, “Isn't there a booth selling funnel cakes?” He gave his own brother the manly elbow, _(while not meaning quite the same things as the pre-teen elbow, the context was similar)_ , and Ed gaped at him, trying very hard not to look at the four boys who suddenly clustered closer to him. One tentative tug at his sleeve was all it took, and Al folded his hands, grinning at his brother's back as he trudged off, herded by his students. Several other boys joined them as they walked across the field, making Ed the center of the pack. He wouldn't have been very pleased to hear Alphonse snicker aside to the General, “You can hardly tell which one is Ed.”

****

Al brushed at his butt and decided he'd have one more go at finding the Xingian prince.

“Hey Al,” a voice called, “there you are, we've been looking all over for you guys! This place is a crush!”

Al looked up and grinned. Sarah came wading through the crowd dragging Havoc by the arm. Behind them was Fuery, holding the hand of a boy who looked to be about seven or eight. Sarah released Havoc when she got close enough in favor of throwing her arms around Al's neck for a hug. Al grinned, patted her back and reached to shake Havoc's hand.

“Whenever we want to find you or Ed, we just look for the generalized disturbance,” Havoc grinned.

Sarah released Al as Fuery approached and Al gripped his hand as well for a shake.

“Hey Al, it's been a while. East City must be agreeing with you,” he smiled, “This is my nephew, John. John this is Mr. Alphonse Elric, say hello.”

The boy clutched Cain's hand tightly, gave Al a wavy smile, a near inaudible hello and seemed to restrain himself mightily from jumping behind his uncle to hide.

“He's a little shy,” Cain said, “sorry about that.”

“No need, I remember being a little shy myself at times,” Al grinned, “Hello John, I'm glad you could come, I hope you are having a good time.”

“Where's Ed?” Havoc asked, fishing around in his uniform jacket pocket as Sarah watched him with an amused look on her face. He kept looking around and kept fishing even though he was coming up empty handed.

“Funnel cake run,” Al supplied, “He took about twenty of his students with him, he'll be awhile. They are holding some exhibitions on the parade field and you missed the marching bands entrance.”

“When are you and Ed going to perform?” Fuery asked, “Is there time for us to take a look at the booths?”

Al glanced at his watch and nodded. “You've got about an hour and a half, plenty of time to wander the exhibits.”

“Colonel,” Havoc suddenly said, delightedly, “No one told us you were coming!”

“That's because I didn't know if my schedule would clear up in time,” said a voice behind Al, slightly to his left. The very air around him suddenly seemed thin and scarce, and from the corner of his eye he saw a figure, though not clearly. She stepped up further into his side field of vision and he reined himself in mightily to keep from whirling on the woman.

“Too bad Vato couldn't make it,” Fuery said, “or Breda... not that he even thought about coming for a second... but still, it would have been great, like a real reunion.”

Al let himself turn to her then, take in her profile and long to lean closer to take in her scent as well. She turned her head to look at him then and smiled.

“Alphonse,” she said, “I didn't tell you because I wasn't sure I could come, but as it so happened, some of my time freed up. I'm glad I made it in time to see your display.”

She was here and real and not some delusion of his one-sided, obsessed crush. He should speak to her, yes, that would be good, since he'd determined she wasn't a mirage of his longing, fevered mind.

“You came to see me?” Al said, voice squeaking off at the end. That is not what he meant to say, or how he meant to say it. The ground could do him a massive favor by opening its maw wide and swallowing him whole.

“I thought it was important to lend my support if only by my presence,” she said, “I think this is a very worthy cause, something that you and your brother excel at; besides, the book reading is a bit pointless if I have no one to discuss it with afterwards.”

 _I love you._

“Can I show you around?” Al said, immediately lifting his elbow, boggling that he was so presumptuous as to lift it. _Can I be with you for the rest of my life?_

She smiled at him, a genuine, open smile and lifted her hand without hesitation to curl her fingers into the crook of his elbow.

“I'm sorry about the uniform, but I thought it would be appropriate,” she continued, “I hope you don't mind.”

 _Mind? Why would I mind? You... care what I think?_

“Of course, it's a military academy after all,” he replied.

“What exhibits do you recommend?” she asked. She was the only person there, the only one he needed to give his attention to. He turned, took a step and his heart skipped a beat as she followed.

“I'll take you anywhere,” he breathed, sounding out of context.

 _You should tell her._

“There so much I want to tell you, I'm so glad you're here.”

The fingers in the crook of his elbow tightened.

****

“Is what I think happening actually happening?” Havoc said, watching the pair walk off. Sarah gave him a half smile and shook her head while Fuery reached up to adjust his glasses.

“It needs to happen, one way or another,” the General cut in, finally finding his voice, “They are both running in place so frantically, someone has to give. If not soon, Alphonse may combust, or their combined formality will have them still orbiting each other until they are old and gray.”

“Who is that woman?” a new voice broke in; the General didn't bother to turn to look at the prince.

“Colonel Hawkeye,” Havoc replied, “Good to see you, Your Highness.”

“Oh good, you’re here,” Sarah exclaimed, “Solider boy, get out the camera,” she cried, releasing Havoc's arm and attacking Ling's, “I need a picture to send the folks so they have something to brag about at the next Sunday social. That way, the 'when are you gonna get married' thing might go away.”

“Or could backfire,” the General said, “into ‘When are you marrying the prince?’ Quite frankly, I wouldn't want to be seen with him.”

The General and the Prince shared a smile between them that the rest of the group quirked an eyebrow over.

“You are such a darling thing,” said Otto, standing at the outer ring of the group. “I think it's a very clever idea. Ling, I would like a picture with you as well, just to have something to brag about.”

The Prince smile enigmatically and tightened his arm to his side, trapping Sarah's hand there. Havoc snorted, suddenly thrust the camera at Fuery and marched over to Sarah's side.

“This is what you brag about,” he told her in a fit of pique.

“Okay, you can be in the picture too,” Sarah said, snuggling up to Ling's side with a teasing smile, “You want my folks to think you wanna married the prince too?”

Ling wiggled his eyebrows at Havoc and his smile grew a bit wider. It was not quite a smile that was what could be considered friendly, but more like speculative. The type of smile that a spider might give to a fly while trying to decide it its blood type would be to its liking, but knowing all along it was going to eat the fly _anyway_.

“Oh look,” Otto said, pointing, “Is Edward signing autographs?”

They all turned to look in unison. Ed was still in the middle of a knot of boys, but now his shirt sleeve was rolled up to expose his automail arm. He was writing something furiously and every time he handed one book off, another was thrust into his hands.

“Sucks to be famous, huh?” said Sarah with a laugh. “And it's so _weird_ because he doesn't act like he's famous at all.”

“HA!” Havoc said, “You didn't know the boss back in the day.”

“He made famous a career,” said Fuery.

“I think he got accused of graft so much, it was frightening,” Havoc said, “I know the boss would never do something like that, but people used to fall all over him.”

“It's because he's so little and cute,” Sarah grinned wickedly, “You just want to cuddle him.”

They all edged away from her then, even the prince tried to lean away.

“Baby,” Havoc said, eyes wide, “Don't make yourself ground zero like that,” he waved his hands up and down, “I don't wanna be a widower before I'm even married.”

“Oh come on,” Sarah said, “he's way over there, he can't hear us.”

But when they looked to check, Ed was staring right at them.

****

“I can't believe you're here, not to say I'm not happy you are. I am, I mean it will mean a lot to Ed that you thought to come all this way.”

“What is it you wanted to tell me? You said you had a lot to tell me.”

“Yes, right, I do. Ah... it's hard. You'll hear me out, won't you?”

She inclined her head and they kept walking. It was an unhurried, leisurely pace and he could almost imagine that they were out on a Sunday stroll, having woken up early and had coffee out on the porch. They might have gone to brunch or maybe they were going to the park.

“You've gotten very tall,” she offered when the silence stretched longer than it should have, “Even since I last saw you I think,” she said it almost with a sense of wonder, “It's so strange that it's come to be like this. I never imagined something like this, but now that the thought has come, I find I can't quite shake it.”

“I think, for a long time, it's been like this for me. But it wasn't what could be now... back then, does that make sense?” He looked at her sidelong.

“It will take some getting used to, there are certain things I still associate with you. It can't be helped, because it has been that way for a long time.”

“What can I do to change it? I mean, is there something I can be doing differently that will make it more... feasible? More comfortable?”

“No, because to change for only that reason is not enough and it wouldn't be you then, would it? If it happens, it happens.”

“...so, it could happen?”

“I'm here, aren't I? You have been making overtures; neither of us are suited to this sort of thing it seems, but when you weren't there, I started thinking about you and then I couldn't stop. It seems funny, doesn't it? I'm sure no one ever thought, least of all myself, of such a thing occurring, but it's not a bad thing, just unexpected.”

He stopped. They were near the far end of the field, away from the crowd a bit.

 _You should tell her._

“What about Talbert?” He asked finally, appalled at himself and dying to know anyway.

“Who? Oh, Talbert,” she said, confused by the abrupt change of subject, “Did you think... Talbert is a business acquaintance. Since I will be working closely with him, I thought I should get to know him a bit better. I find it easier to get to know someone away from the office.” Her fingers squeezed his inner elbow again.

“I love you. Don't say anything yet, please just wait and let me tell you what I mean. I mean I love you, but I mean, I have to tell you about why I do and the reasons why I'm not a child anymore and you should listen to me and let me tell you why it might be a good idea for this to be between us. Okay? Please just hear me out and let me tell you before I explode. I really feel like I'm going to explode, do you ever feel like that? No, of course not, that's just me. But _please_ , before you shoot me down, just let me make my case. I mean, not shoot me literally because I know you'd never do that no matter what the General has ever told me, and I didn't believe a word of it, but you know what I mean. What do I mean? I think I want to run and hide from you right now, but I can't, I won't! Because I'm not as young as I look, you know how old I am, I feel like I'm pleading for my life, I am pleading for my life. Please don't hold this against me. I'm sorry to sound so insane,” he babbled.

“Alphonse,” she started, “I don't think you sound insane, I know that I'm...”

“Wait, wait,” he pleaded desperately, “I thought I should tell you, because as you said, neither of us are suited to this. We've always been very straight forward in everything. I'm supposed to be good at all these things; I'm supposed to be a genius, but this is important and I feel like I'm ten. I don't understand it, but I want to understand it. I want to learn. I want to learn with you and from you. I love you. You were always there for me; I could always count on you. It was circumstance or fate, it just _was_ , and that's how it is supposed to be. I believe that in my heart, I truly do. Everything happens for a reason and not always a good one, but this is a good one, this is a good reason.

“You know about me, about my brother. You know of our sins and I'm open to you. Everything I am, you've seen twice over; there is nothing inside me that you haven't touched. It's so rare... don't you see? That's how it is for brother, the General, he _knows_ him. He knows what it's like, deep down inside, to feel the way Ed feels. That is how I feel about you.

“I don't want to make you uncomfortable, or push something on you that you'd rather not have, but I had to tell you. It was the only thing to do. I spent the first part of my life chasing after something I wanted more than anything in the world. I don't want to chase things I want anymore. I'm tired of running.”

“You don't have to run anymore,” she said then. “I understand what you are saying, and I want...”

“This isn't all about me, it's about you too. I know that and whatever it is you want, I want that too. I want to make it happen for you, I will do everything to make it happen for you, but please, just let me try! Whatever happens I can live with it, I promise, so I don't want you to feel like you have to...”

But he never finished.

Because she kissed him.

****

He whirled around and tried desperately to disappear back into the crowd, but the crowd, out of respect for his own growled wishes, had dissipated. Using his brother and the Colonel as an excuse to escape seemed like a good idea and to make the lie work, he'd dashed after them through the crowd, but now, oh now, they _couldn't see him!_ This was private, this was beyond private.

 _They were kissing!_

If Al caught him, he was dead! _(not that Ed actually considered the one kiss Riza had actually bestowed on his brother to be kissing, that was more like just a kiss. Kissing involved groping and tongue battling and a lot more privacy than they actually had at the moment, not that he was actually giving them any! The bastard, he could kiss, he really had it down. He started hard to realize he wasn't sure which bastard that was currently on his kiss register he meant)_.

Al was leaning back now, his lips were parted and he was wearing a blush so potent, eggs could be fried on each cheek. Ed dove headlong for the nearest booth and ducked under the table. Everyone jumped back and he hissed, grabbing for the nearest cadet colored pant leg, causing the boy to yelp.

“SHHHHH,” Ed stage whispered, “If you all run from the table, that’ll look suspicious and I'm trying to hide here, act natural!”

The boy wet his lips, nodded and stood stiffly behind the table as Ed slowly released his pant leg.

“Look over there, do you see a guy with brown hair and a Colonel in a blue uniform?” he asked the boy.

“No,” the boy whimpered.

“No, over there, to your left, look to your left,” Ed growled.

“I see a Colonel in a blue uniform,” the boy said. “And there are a lot of guys around too.”

“No, look for the guy _kissing_ the Colonel, maybe they aren't kissing anymore, he has on a green shirt and a pair of tweed pants. He's... taller than you, do you see him?”

“I don't want to see a guy kissing the Colonel,” the boy whined. “And why would he want to? He has a big mustache and it looks like there is food caught in it.”

“NO… for the love of... it's a girl Colonel, a blonde! MOVE,” Ed pushed the boy's legs aside and peered over the edge of the table.

Of course he was instantly spotted.

“Brother!” cried Al, pointing at him. “What are you doing?!”

“Nothing!” Ed shrieked. “I wasn't spying or anything! I was minding my own business and I had nothing to do with it, I didn't see anything!”

“What are you talking about?” Al waved his arms. “You're going to be late for your own demonstration!”

****

They made the tent set up on the edge of the parade grounds just in time to hear the dean begin to speak over the loud speaker system. Ed stood in the tent, half bent over, hands on knees panting. He straightened up and looked at the assembled crowd.

“Okay, I'm up first, then Al. After that, we turn on the hoses for the fountain Al is going to make. That brings up Otto and Roy,” Ed couldn't help the grin that spread over his face at his lover's name in connection with an _alchemy_ demonstration. “Then Alex, you're the clean up.”

“We've only gone over this a million times,” the General grinned.

“I know, but I'm nervous, okay?” Ed snapped, his eyes settling on Ling. His stomach twisted a bit and he snarled, “What are you doing in here?”

“Everyone else was in here,” the prince shrugged.

“Everyone else isn't in here,” Ed countered. “I don't see the Colonel or Havoc or the rest of the masses.”

“That was figurative, brother,” Al said behind him.

“I know that,” Ed said, taking his turn to wave his arms, “I just mean... nevermind, did he just say my name?”

Everyone turned to listen to the voice over the loud speaker and Miss Bloom poked her head into the tent.

“Professor, there you are,” she said with a smile, “You better come on, the dean is starting the introduction. We're all so excited to see your display.”

Ed tried to edge around the woman, but it was no use. She clung to his arm like lint to fabric and he got yanked out of the tent before he could cast a proper 'save me' look at the General.

****

He'd had this feeling once, long ago in a restaurant, in an eastern city. He had been there with a Colonel and somehow, even though he had never been sensitive to attention before, he could feel every eye on him. It was the same now. The bleachers around the parade grounds were overflowing. The turn out for the event had become much larger than anticipated. He rubbed his palms on his pants leg, _(he rubbed them both even though one only sweated; it felt like the other one was sweating too)_ , and stood near the base of the podium as the dean made the introductions. He and Al had spent a few nights coming up with his demonstration. He was going to create a 'Rube Goldberg', an insanely intricate device used for a simple function, in this case, cracking an egg. It struck him as he went over the details in his brain once again... that he didn't have an egg. He waved to Miss Bloom frantically, whispered in her ear feverishly and watched her dash off pensively. He glanced up as he heard his name come over the loud speaker once again and his eyes widened as the roar of the crowd drowned out anything else the dean might have wanted to say.

****

He was 'The Alchemist of the People'. It was a title the people had given him and the only title he'd worked hard to be worthy of. It was also the only title he was proud of. Then there were the eyes again, all over him. He tugged at his right shirt sleeve, swallowed and stepped forward, raising his hand a little. The second wave of calls from the crowd were every bit as deafening at the first and he winced a little. He took a few deep breaths and looked around, at the very end of the parade grounds where several large mounds of dirt that has been placed there for he and his brother to draw upon. His ‘palms’ were sweaty again, but rubbing them on his pants in front of an audience was not an option. Where the hell was his egg?

He pictured the construct in his mind one more time, running over the fine details and quickly making fine tuning adjustments to the array he was picturing. When he clapped his hands, he completed the circle; the circle allowed the flow of alchemy to make its way through is body. When he knelt to place his hands on the ground, the alchemic reaction grounded and projected itself into an array that was usually not visible to the naked eye. With the array in place and his will determined, he could force reactions from the elements around him by transmuting. When he transmuted, he could exchange one element for another, if the appropriate compounds where available. It wasn't something for nothing, it wasn't magic, it was the nebulous of his entire existence; and sometimes, at night, he wished he'd never met such a merciless master.

****  
Blue and white, it whipped down the parade grounds, rushing past the bleachers. Immediately, one of the huge mounds of dirt began to sink into the ground and in the same instance, a spike suddenly erupted in front of the bleachers. The crowd gasped in delight, breaking into applause as the spike doubled back on itself and crashed earthward. With the flashy part of the demonstration over, it was time to get to work.

The device was simple, but it was being constructed on a grand scale. The first part was a large, old fashioned crank cash register. Ed had studied many pictures of the devices and their inner workings, and the register formed with its simple gears, raised up on a platform of dirt. Ed formed a large ball that sat against the drawer of the register and a ramp that sloped down from it, towards a funnel, which would drop the ball onto another ramp. Attached to the ball was a 'string' and as it reached the end of the ramp, the string would pull and a large toy car would be released _(Ed made the car look like the General's state loaned car that he was rather familiar with)_ down yet another ramp. This trip would result in yet another ball being pushed into another funnel, _(when they'd thought this up, it seemed that a lot of ramps and funnels would be fine, but now in practice, it seemed redundant. If Ed ever did this again, there would be less balls and less funnels),_ this ball would land on and set off a huge mousetrap.

The mousetrap would pull a large 'nail' from a pole that would allow an attached weight to drop. The weight, in turn, would pull a cork from a tube, which would, in turn, deliver the ball into a cup, which would be perched on a scale. The scale would tilt and raise a wire to... yes, release a ball to run down a ramp, _(this seemed so much more creative in theory)_. This ball would drop into a basket, which would lower and hopefully hit a lever on the back of a replica of a toy axe man, causing his axe to fall with just enough precision and force... to crack a single egg.

As stated before, it had all worked in _theory_.

He was out of practice and the detail and dimension of the grand scale contraption was taking its toll; he had started to pant near the end of it. From the response of the crowd, just the construction of the contraption might have been enough, but then there was Al, hurrying out to his brother and carrying a small bowl.

“Here's the egg. It’s not really an egg,” he whispered. “It only looks like an egg because well, we used all the eggs in the cafeteria. So I transmuted an egg shaped something and BROTHER she kissed me!”

“The egg kissed you?” said Ed staring into the bowl at the small, oval-ish, egg-shaped something or another Al had transmuted.

There comes a time in every man's life when he questions his very existence. Who am I? Why am I here? What is my purpose? Alphonse Elric was pretty certain he'd answered all these questions at a very early age, _(twice over, even)_ , and there should be no really big surprises left in life. Oh there would be surprises, but not the philosophical kind. Even with this in mind, there was one question that at certain times in his life, Alphonse Elric would always ask himself, and that question was: _Is Edward Elric really my brother?_

“The chicken kissed me and got so excited she laid an egg,” Al said, “all that about transmuting it? That was a lie.”

“You kissed the 4-H boy's chicken?” Ed wrinkled his nose, “I didn't need an egg that _badly_. You better go boil your lips.”

“What do you think the crowd would do if I were to shove this up your nose?” Al asked causally.

Ed snorted, reached in the bowl, grabbed the egg and ran to the end of the contraption, balancing it precariously on the small pedestal transmuted there for the very purpose.

“Now, we get someone to crank the crank,” Ed said and rubbed his hands together in a pretty descent imitation of a demented scientist about to pull the lever that would grant him world domination.

“Why don't you have one of your boys do it?” Al said. “That would make one of them really happy.”

“And the rest completely miserable. I'd hear about it all next week. Oh, Professor Elric likes _you_ best. Really Al, you have no idea how the minds of young boys work,” Ed waved his hand.

“A couple of semesters under your belt and you're an expert,” Al said, “It's a pity you didn't have all this advanced knowledge when you were a young boy; being your brother might not have been such a ulcer-inducing past time.”

“Ah!” Ed said, and raised his finger, intent on wagging it in Al's face, but he caught himself at the last second, dropping his hand, “You couldn't get ulcers, you didn't have a stomach,” Ed said triumphantly.

“That's okay,” Al said, “You had stomach enough for both of us and a couple of siblings we never had,” Al retorted, hands going to his hips.

It was then the General wandered up and looked at them both with a pleasant smile. “Is there a problem?” he asked.

“Al kisses chickens,” Ed said.

“Ed is an expert on being an adolescent air-head,” Al replied.

“Al, kissing poultry will have people talking. Ed, engage your brain before putting your mouth into gear. Now gentleman, can we get this show on the road?” the General made a polite but pointed nod at the assembled crowd, who'd all gone silent. Some of the boys who were sitting up front had edged closer to listen to the siblings argue.

“Crank the crank Roy,” Ed said.

“Pardon,” the General asked, “This is not a time to be bringing that up...”

Ed grabbed the General's elbow and turned him, pointing toward the large crank handle before giving him a little shove forward.

“Just crank it?” The General asked.

“Just give it a good turn, that's all it should need,” Ed reassured him.

“Crank the crank?” Al said, looking sidelong at his brother. Ed's cheeks pinked a bit and he made a shooing motion with his hand.

“What do you know about it, you're the one kissing girls,” Ed hissed out of the side of his mouth.

“On the lips no less, girls who used to outrank me,” Al murmured back.

“Welcome to the real world, where you'll learn to love the compromise and you'll care how you look in the morning,” his big brother said. “Suddenly little things you never thought of before will no longer be little things and all your free time will be gone. Your privacy will eventually become nil and you'll feign interest in things that really aren't interesting at all. You'll live for each breath, each smile, and each day. You'll no longer live for yourself, it's amazing.”

Al studied his brother's profile as his brother watched the General reach up and grip the handle of the crank, looking over his shoulder at Ed once more, uncertainly. Ed smiled and nodded, hands clasped loosely behind his back. Ed had never lived for himself; it was funny to hear him speak of it as if he had. Ed lived for a cause and at one time, his cause was his younger brother. His cause was a bit different now, it was tugging on a make shift handle of an alchemized Rube Goldberg contraption.

“Harder!” Ed yelled in encouragement and mimicked tugged on the handle himself. The General quirked his eyebrow up, turned back to the handle and heaved downward. There was a sudden grinding noise, the sound of a bell chiming and the drawer of the crank cash register shot open, driving the ball on the ramp toward the first funnel; Ed held his breath.

****

It cracked the egg, the pedestal and the ground, but the crowd didn't seem to mind at all. It took some doing to hush them for the next introduction, whose last name also happened to be Elric.

“There is going to be no following that,” Al said with a shake of his head, tugging on a pair of old, white gloves he'd brought along for the occasion. His eyes strayed over the people standing on the sideline and his chest puffed out a bit at the sight of a certain Colonel standing between Alex and the Prince. _The Prince!_ So he hadn't left after all. Al walked toward the hoses that had been strategically stretched across the field; they the 'fuel' for his fountain and Otto's alchemy. He clapped his hands together and knelt to the ground, replaying the fountain he'd studied on the train in his mind. It wasn't terribly intricate and he made mental modifications to the design as he pushed power into the earth below his feet and exchanged one energy for another. The basin of the fountain quickly formed and the central tower rose into the air. For an artistic touch he spiraled it, making it hollow as planned and splitting the top in a curved shape that was supposed to look like flames.

“What is he doing? It looks like a giant daisy,” Ed huffed to the General in the background.

Al tunneled beneath the fountain and the water hoses disappeared underground before he gave a curt nod toward the main building where a volunteer had been posted to turn on the water. He could hear the bubbling as the hoses came on one by one and glanced over his shoulder toward where his brother and the other 'performers' stood.

“Is that my cue?” Otto said. “That's my cue, isn't it?” The General turned abruptly and strode off, needing to get to the vantage point that had been previously discussed for his part in the spectacle. Al stood up and dusted off his hands, turned and bowed his head to the older gentleman who came up along side of him. Otto listened to the dean announce him over the loud speaker and gave Al a wink.

“Octavious is so pretentious, don't you think? I always thought so, but that's alright, I like pretentious. It's amazing what you find useful, isn't it?” Otto lifted his cane and struck it on the ground and there was a moment of collected silence in which nothing happened. Alphonse thought perhaps the man needed time to use the cane to sketch an array on the ground, but he did nothing of the sort. He simply stood with his hand on the brass cane handle, his other hand behind his back and surveyed the fountain of Alphonse's creation.

“It's rather plain,” Al said hesitantly, trying not to turn to glance at his brother. “I've never made a fountain before.”

“It's lovely my dear boy, simple lovely,” the silver haired man said, “It's tall and slender and dark, like many a lovely man I knew in my youth. It has the elegance and grace of a spiral, reaching toward the sun, its top open as if in supplication. It's truly a work of art.”

“Thank you,” Al said, fidgeting a little, “But really it's...”

The water in the fountain suddenly shot upwards and suspended as if frozen in place on all sides before exploding into a fine spray. Each tiny droplet seemed to reflect the sun as they began to swirl around the now dry fountain in a glittering display and there was an appreciative 'ahhh' from the audience in the bleachers. Suddenly the droplets went still, they seemed to flatten and broaden out and slowly, they began to layer themselves, one over another, until they took on the look of rippling, iridescent scales. Now the display snaked its way around the fountain, setting into the basin. It rose in waves, taking on the look of something diving and breaking the surface over and over again. Large, spiked fins rose from the rope like lengths that kept rising around the basin of the fountain, then the coils stilled and one of them detached itself and began to rise in the air.

The glistening, transparent dragon opened its mouth and roared. Alphonse gasped as the spray hit his face, raising his hands to shield his eyes against the glint coming from a creature of legend rising from a fountain. Suddenly, Ed was there, right beside him, wearing a grin that instantly threw Alphonse back ten years.

“How does he make it roar?” Ed asked in breathless wonder, “What could he be doing to cause such a sound?”

“Maybe it's like thunderclouds, the displacement of air,” Alphonse said, only to be drowned out as the dragon shrieked again.

The were calls and applause from the crowd, cheers and children's screams of delighted fright, then, as if one, the crowd gasped. Al turned quickly, eyes widening and reached to grab Ed's arm. Ed turned slowly, titling his head upward as the large firebird descended on the parade grounds.

****

There is always a moment, a special defining moment, when something you thought you'd lost is found again. It isn't always the person who thinks that perhaps they've lost it that has this revelation; sometimes it's those around them that have mourned its passing that take the greatest joys in its rebirth. Like a phoenix risen from the ashes, a cliché, but nevertheless true for its thinking.

He spread his arms and tilted his head back, seeking to expose as much of himself to the warmth as it passed over him, reveling in the rebirth of a glory he'd thought long since embers. The great bird descended silently, spread its wings and banked around the parade grounds before heading for the fountain itself.

Ed opened his eyes; the true beauty of this moment wasn't the firebird that a glistening water dragon rose to meet. His eyes trailed across the scene, toward the bleachers and the lone upper tier. There was a figure there, discernable by blue, with one arm outstretched; that was the true beauty of this display. The bird closed in on the dragon and they danced fancifully. A fairy tale legend brought to life, but fated to doom, for everyone knew that fire could not love water. The bird banked away again, soaring down the parade grounds and angling back up into the sky. It angled back once it was far from the ground, folding its wings in on itself and plummeted toward the fountain again.

The crowd was now cheering it on and Ed finally tore his eyes away from the upper bleachers to watch as the bird came skimming low to the ground and plowed straight into the opening at the bottom of the spiraled tower rising from the middle of the fountain. The dragon began to climb as well, coiling itself around the tower as it went. When it reached the top, the firebird burst from the opening and the dragon's coils encircled it. They climbed higher and higher together, loving and doomed, until at the pinnacle of their ascent, the dragon tightened its coils. The great bird, as silent as it was beautiful, threw its head back with wings spread and simply ceased to be. With its love gone, the dragon dissipated and fell in a rush toward the ground. Everyone around the fountain back pedaled furiously, all expect for a lone, blond alchemist, who once again threw his arms out and bowed his head, eyes closed.

****

There was an appreciative shriek as the ground rumbled all around them. The bleachers themselves seemed to bounce and Alphonse reached out and grabbed his brother's damp arm to steady himself. Ed grinned at him as the Rube Goldberg and the fountain shuddered and began to fall in on themselves. As this was happening, Alex raised his second spike-robed fist, slammed it into the earth and a great chasm opened beneath the two crumbling structures. They fell into it, the long tower of the fountain hitting and breaking in a spectacular display of flying dirt over the Rube Goldberg. They vanished without a trace as the earth snapped shut and when the dust settled, it seemed as if nothing had ever been there at all.

“Oh, well done,” Alphonse breathed by his brother's ear. “Listen to the crowd, Brother. I think this has been a great success.”

Ed smiled, nodded, his eyes turning to scan the bleachers once again, but the figure that had held him so enraptured was gone. All he really wanted to do now was find him and kiss him. Kiss him until neither of them could draw a proper breath. Run his hands down the back of that blue cloth, hear his nails scratching down to those square and narrow hips, feel the weight of the man between his legs...

“I'm going to find the Colonel,” Al said, drawing Ed from what could have been an embarrassing condition. Al released his arm and surged into the forming crowd around the troop of alchemists.

As an event, it was officially over. Ed tried to navigate the crowd, but the tugs and questions and boys’ pleas waylaid him, and the General was not given to being tall enough to distinguish amidst a sea of blue uniforms. He managed to get to Otto's side, however, as the man signed his own share of autograph books. He was positively glowing and it made Ed happy in innumerable ways.

“So, how is it you transmute without a circle?” Ed managed to get in edgewise between the pleas for autographs, young boys’ breathless questions and admiration. The older man winked at Ed and hefted up his cane enough for Ed to get a look at the array etched into the brass tip at the bottom. Ed grinned but got jostled aside. He was old hat now. After all, he was a teacher and accessible. He found he was glad his fame wore thin the longer he was with the school, now that he had a life and was not chasing one, it suit him to be just one of the crowd.

He glimpsed his brother, Riza at his side, standing with Alex and another group of boys. Al was grinning ear to ear as books where shoved in his face and he kept glancing at the Colonel to make sure she was watching. Ed's stomach did a little flutter at the sight. Growing up. No, that wasn't right. Grown up, he was grown up and finding his own happiness.

 _  
I did it, I managed to undo what I have done. May I be forgiven._

A hand landed on the small of his back and spread, the palm warm against his spine and he grinned and turned, but it was not the black hair and eyes of who he expected to see. The features were rounder, foreign and familiar.

“Congratulations,” said the prince, prodding the professor further from the crowd.

“Your display was breathtaking, fit for an emperor; and since one day I will be one, wasn't it lucky I was here to witness it.”

“Ling, I'm trying to find Roy...” Ed said.

“Where did you last see him?” the prince said, perhaps meaning to be helpful but not really sounding like it.

“He was on the bleachers,” Ed moved away from the hand on his back and turned to head toward the now almost deserted parade ground bleachers. The prince fell in step at his side, clasping his hands behind his back.

“Look, I don't need an escort,” Ed grumbled. “I'd rather see Roy _alone_ , so if you don't mind, scram.”

“I don't mind,” the prince grinned. “I'm merely walking the same way, and as you haven't found the General yet, you don't have to be alone yet. Oh look, is that him?

Ed turned to look and then snorted. “No,” he said, “You know the General. He's not that tall, not that old and doesn't have a beard to his belly. You are being deliberately unhelpful.”

“All these uniforms look the same after a while,” the prince shrugged with an easy grin.

Ed ducked under the side of the bleachers where he and Alphonse and the General had their discussion earlier in the day. The sunlight dappled through the seats, but for the most part it, was dim and Ed didn't see anyone standing under them. He felt a little knot of disappointment and turned and ran into Ling who had ducked under with him.

“Do you always have to get right up on me?” Ed snapped, taking a step back, “What, are you afraid I'm going to disappear if I'm more than a foot away?”

“Quite possibly,” the prince said, advancing again. Ed backed up into a strut and hissed at the feel of the metal biting into his back.

“Look, Ling, this has to stop. I know that I've been... I don't want you to think I'm leading you on. Damn that sounds weird, I never in a million years thought I'd be saying anything like that...” the prince's lips cut him off and Ed raised his hands to put them on Ling's shoulders with the intention of pushing him away.

He managed it after a moment, held the prince off at arms length and panted slightly.

“I said this has to stop!” he snarled.

“But you didn't say stop,” the prince returned. “I don't think you really know what you want, Professor. I think it's very fortunate for both of us.” Ling took a step back then and Ed lowered his hands.

“I want to find the General,” Ed said, “I didn't come under here to get ambushed. Now leave off, I mean it.”

The prince nodded once, turned and walked off without another word and Ed took a moment to simmer down. What the hell was wrong with him that he let that pompous, monkey-faced bastard get away with putting his lips all over him? He ran a hand over his face, brushed back his ponytail and shook his head before moving from beneath the bleachers.

By this time, he'd lost track of _everyone_ , and the fair grounds were emptying out. The only real crowds were the students taking down their booths, tallying up their takes and the football team struggling to get Matilda back in the truck. He threw his hands up and let them drop to his sides, then pulled them up and put them on his hips, pursing his lips and lookingaround. Great, abandoned.

“Professor,” called the voice he'd only spent the last hour looking for, _(or what seemed like an hour, anyway)_. The General waved from the doorway of the main building and Ed grinned, hurrying toward him.

“I've been looking all over,” he said, coming up to Roy's side, “I thought you might be under the bleachers,” the Professor wiggled his eyebrows.

“You know, I thought about that,” the General grinned, “but I thought you might like to show me your classroom?” and he winked.

“The boys are going to store the booth pieces in there until Monday,” Ed said, elated and disappointed.

“Ah, well then, you'll have to show me the broom closet,” the General said.

“Broom... closet?” asked the Professor.

****

“It was... exhilarating, I didn't remember just how it felt...” the General mumbled into the side of the Professor's neck. The Professor, half dressed and with a mop handle pressing against his spine, just moaned.

The General nudged the Professor's shirt to the side, lowered his head and extended his tongue toward the nipple he'd just bared. The Professor hissed and arched his chest, slamming the heels of his hands against the mud sink he was leaning against.

“It was arousing,” the Professor hissed out when the General made a slow, warm and wet sweep of his tongue over his chest. “All I wanted to do was find you. Ah... Roy...”

“Find me?” the General murmured, leaving off his splendid torture for a moment, “What would you have done, if you had found me?” he asked.

“I think the fact I'm here and half naked in a broom closet should clue you in,” the Professor swallowed.

The General grinned into glazed, golden eyes, his fingers working at and releasing a belt and the button of a pair of dark, brown trousers. He tugged at the zipper then shimmied his hand inside, palm flat against Ed's stomach for a few moments. The General's fingers skated through the curls in the juncture of Ed's legs, who spread his legs and unbidden, went up almost onto his toes.

“You're fucking hot, did you know that? Flame just makes you that much fucking hotter... damnit YES... yes do that...” Ed panted.

“So, the alchemy made you hot?” Roy murmured, bowing his head to nibble up the side of his neck again.

“You made me hot, you always make me hot... the alchemy just made it... ah... AH…” It took a few moments before Ed could speak again, “I don't remember what I was saying,” he whined.

The General groaned deep in his chest and stuck his tongue in the Professor's ear; that was just too nice a fucking compliment. The Professor's hand suddenly made its way into one of the General's voluminous regulation trouser pockets and Roy grunted as Ed dug hard into the pocket but didn't come anywhere near his now evident erection.

“To your left,” Roy muttered, his own fingers closing around Ed's cock. Ed shivered and bucked into his hand, “Further to your left,” Roy panted again. Ed's hand obeyed and his fingers brushed over Roy's rigid penis, but quickly flitted away again.

“That's your dick, not the lube,” Ed complained and Roy groaned and sighed. He pulled his hands from Ed's pants and Ed whined loudly, gripping his forearms, but Roy hooked his thumb into the waist band of Ed's pants and began to work them down. He knelt as he worked them and Ed's breathing hitched up a great deal once the General was on his knees. Ow, the broom closet floor was tiled and wasn't very comfortable; it was cold as well and a bit damp. On his knees, he could smell more of the chemicals stored under the mud sink Ed was backed up against and that wasn't pleasant, so he stuck his nose in the damp, blond curls above his lover's erection and inhaled deeply. There, that was better, that smelled like Ed. Ed gasped and swallowed, arched his back and looked down at Roy with a dazed and heated expression.

“What are you doing?” Ed asked with a quiver in his tone.

“All I can smell down here is bleach,” Roy said, and rested his nose against musky, damp curls again. “But this is better.”

“Yeah, okay,” Ed said weakly and his thighs trembled under Roy's hands when Roy reached up to stroke over them.

“I can't help but think this should be the other way around,” the General suddenly mused. Ed's eyes came close to crossing. Why was it every time Ed was so horny he could fuck a knot hole in a log, Roy wanted to wax poetic over something?

“I'll blow you when we get home!” Ed bargained.

“I mean, if it was my display of superior alchemy that got you this aroused,” the General continued in that smug, teasing tone, the one that made Ed's toes curl, the one that made Ed want to shove that arrogant face into a meat grinder; yes that tone, continued, “I'd think you'd like to be showing me your appreciation.”

“I am showing you!” Ed half howled, “I'm fucking harder than a diamond and you made me that way, be goddamn flattered and suck me already,” he sobbed.

The General made a tsking sound and the tip of his tongue touched the base of Ed's cock and pressed there, seeming to move in a little circle.

“That spot’s done, move on,” Ed begged, “Roy, don't do this to me in a broom closet, for fuck's sake, I thought this was going to be a quicky!”

“Well, it was going to be,” the General said in that very put upon tone he got when the thought he was being horribly wronged, “but someone went and got snooty.”

“It wasn't me,” Ed sobbed, “It wasn't mean, I don't have a snooty bone in my fucking body. Fuck what do I have to do to make it up to you? Just fucking tell me, you always do this when you know I'm weak! You're a nasty bastard, praying on my honor. I hate you... oh fuck, put me in your mouth, I'll bottom for a month!”

“You'd bottom for a month anyway,” the General said with a smirk, “You like to bottom,” he gave Ed a long tongue swipe up the underside of Ed's straining cock.

“If you don't do something and soon,” Ed said, sweating and panting, “I'm going to transmute this broom right up your ass, and then... people won't say you walk around like you have a broom up your ass... they'll _know_. Please Roy...” Ed arched forward again, invitingly. He turned on his best pout, he gave the General his best big-eyed look.

The General looked up at him, one slim eyebrow arched and an amused smirk on his face. Then he repeated the lick up the Ed's cock and his tongue nudged the head. It was warm and full and red, glistening with pre-cum and Ed sucked in a hard breath. When the General closed his mouth over it and lightly tongued the slit, Ed came. As it turned out, it was a quicky indeed.

****

The Professor had the most languid smile on his face and he burrowed back into the car seat on the ride home.

“So spoiled,” the General murmured, a smile on his face.

“I know, what can you do?” Ed sighed and then he leaned hard and just flopped over, the side of his head hitting the top of the General's thigh. One of the General's hands immediately dropped to his head and scritched through the hair on his temple.

“You're going to be asleep before we get home,” his lover said and Ed couldn't argue. He was so warm and relaxed and happy.

“You were incredible,” Ed sighed, rubbing his cheek on the scratchy blue cloth, “I knew you could do it, I don't see why you thought you couldn't.”

“It was just one of those carryovers,” the General said, “Back when I was feeling sorry for myself. You know, not everyone can get knocked down and get up as quickly as you do, have pity for us mere mortals.”

“No, no pity for you,” Ed said and yawned, “You're not allowed to be a mere anything.” The gentle scratching over his ear was insidious and he found it near impossible to keep his eyes open.

“No pity for me,” the General murmured. His fingers strayed over the outer ridge of Ed's ear, lightly traced his jaw line, “Are you asleep?”

“Almost,” Ed said faintly.

“Thank you,” the General said, “From me and from Otto both.”

“What are you talking about?” Ed mumbled, “I didn't do anything, that display you two cooked up stole the entire demonstration.”

“Hmmm,” the General said. He might have said more, but Ed didn't catch it. He was floating now, Roy's fingers in his hair, the vibration of the car, Roy's warmth under his cheek; they all conspired against his waking consciousness.

The General could tell as he pulled the car onto the thoroughfare that he'd have a nice, quiet drive all the way home.


	18. Chapter 18

The door opened with a mildly protesting creak and the form standing in the doorway creaked as well. It was a sight to be sure; a rumpled blond mess in a bathrobe that hung almost to its ankles. Its hair danced about its head and shoulders in a tesla-like array and it snuffled as it smacked its lips.

“I'm sorry to be so early brother, but we are going to catch an early train,” Al handed off the squirming bundle tucked under his arm. The small black and white terrier, _(not at all offended to have been left in the care of Al after being accidentally abandoned at the parade grounds)_ , wiggled in enthusiasm and licked at his co-owner’s chin.

“Huh, wha?” said Ed and tried to focus enough to actually understand what his brother was saying.

“I'm just here to pick up Sophie and get my suitcase,” Al said brushing past, “I'm sorry to cut this short, I know it seems I'm always doing it, but Riza and I have a lot to talk about. We did a lot of talking last night at her hotel,” Al disappeared down the hallway and turned into his bedroom. He reemerged a moment later with his suitcase and cat carrier, and sat them in the hall. Ed just kept blinking at him and looking around, then seemed to notice he was still holding R.D.

“If this is R.D., then what is that in the bed with us?” Ed said groggily.

“Ah, that makes looking for Sophie much easier,” Al grinned and headed for the master bedroom.

Even in the dim light it wasn't hard to pick Sophie out against the white pillowcase. She was wrapped around the General's head like a fuzzy, purring halo and Al lifted her gently as not to disturb the man.

“I take it things went well,” the General's voice said softly in the darkness. Al pressed the purring cat to his chest; he felt like purring himself.

“Yes,” he returned softly, “Thank you, my pirate.” Without another word, he made his way back to his disheveled brother in the hall and knelt to put Sophie into her carrier.

“So,” Ed said, “I guess I won't be seeing you for a while, seeing as how you'll have things to work out and dating to do and such.”

Al straightened up and dusted off his pants.

“Yeah,” he said, “I mean I got the ground work laid, now I have to build on it,” he gave his elder brother a half smile.

They both shuffled about a bit and then finally Al leaned forward and hugged Ed loosely as to not squish the dog still held in his arms.

“I'll call you a lot, I promise,” he said, then released his brother and stepped back, stooping to pick up the suitcase and cat carrier.

“I know,” Ed said, forging a grin, “I'm happy for you; I know you've always liked her, even when we were kids.”

“Yeah, well...” Al said. The door was behind Ed. When he went out of it, his whole world would be opening up anew. When he went out of it, something would be irrevocably left behind. It was both elation and pain, but he was used to that. He was used to exchanges.

“Be careful. Let me know you made it back to East City safe,” Ed said, putting on his authoritative tone, “Don't be late for your train.”

“Right,” Al said and nodded. He went to the door and sat his suitcase down briefly to open it while Ed shifted R.D. to under his flesh arm and caught the handle with his automail hand.

“I got it,” he told his younger brother, who was no longer his ‘little’ brother. He was leaving little behind.

“You always do,” Al smiled, “Thanks brother, thanks for everything. Thanks for making it possible for me to have this.”

“I didn't do this,” Ed said, cheeks heating a little, “You got her all on your own.”

“But you got me back,” Al said, “Just like you promised, you always make good on your promises.”

“Hey... you're my brother,” Ed said, “That's what big brothers do.”

Al regarded him a moment more, nodded and picked up his suitcase. He stepped out the door, off the small porch, walked to the waiting car and his future. His elder brother watched him go; waiting until he was in the car and it pulled away before stepping out of the pre-dawn chill and shutting the door.

****

The General made a very entertaining whooshing sound when his dog was dropped on his stomach. He made more entertaining sounds when said dog danced there a moment before darting up his chest and having a go at his nose with a wet tongue. Then the General's dog got to dance on his head a moment as the man flailed wildly, but the victory was short lived when the General got his hands around the small, furry chest and lifted him up, holding him aloft.

“R.D.,” the General said, “I see you made it home after your wild night of partying.”

“I can't believe we left him,” Ed muttered, climbing back into his side of the bed, sliding under the quilt and then right up against Roy to leech body heat, “We would be terrible parents.”

“I knew that Al or one of the boys would watch him,” the General smiled and the small dog trotted to his spot at the end of the bed between their feet, “So, Al's heading back east?” He reached out and ran his hand over Ed's hip and up his side. Since Ed was there to leech body heat, the General felt it only fair he get to touch a little.

Ed didn't answer. Instead, he pressed closer and ran the tip of his nose along the General's collarbone. Roy slipped his hand around to Ed's back and began to rub up and down gently.

“It will be okay,” he said into blond hair, “wait and see; it will be just fine.”

Ed responded by turning his face and pressing his cheek against his chest. The General kept rubbing slowly, up and down his spine as R.D. adored his flesh foot.

“Of course it will be fine,” Ed said eventually, “It's Al after all, how can she resist?”

“I think she's pretty well doomed,” the General said with soft mirth, “Elric men are irresistible and more than a handful. I think I feel sorry for her.”

The General yelped as his hand shot up to cover and rub at his offended nipple while the Elric of his choosing snorted against his chest.

“I'll give you reason to be sorry if that's what you really want,” Ed scowled and clacked his automail fingers together.

“I'll be a lot less fun if you have to rush me to the hospital,” the General said.

Ed wiggled around a bit more and finally settled; the General smiled and kissed the top of his head.

“I have a meeting on Tuesday that is probably going to run late, I can ask Havoc to bring you home,” he said.

“Meeting? What kind of meeting?” the Professor lifted his once settled head and looked at him.

“Oh you know, boring, politically motivated?” Roy leaned forward and kissed him on the end of his nose, “Don't frown at me like that, you know I'm going to be very busy with all of that soon.”

“Well, I guess you gotta do, what you gotta do,” Ed sighed and lowered his head again.

****

What he had to do turned out to be a lot. Much more than the Professor bargained for and he found himself increasingly irritated to be staring at the back of Lieutenant Colonel Havoc's head more and more frequently.

One night a week had turned into two, two had become four and there was now talk of a weekend _retreat_.

“How much of this am I supposed to put up with?! “ Ed yelled suddenly, causing the man in the front seat to jump, but he was used to such things when certain alchemists were in the back seat.

“Well I'm sure I can't tell you, boss,” Havoc said, leaning his head back a little and glancing over his shoulder, “The General's a busy man. You know, running for Prime Minister is a big thing.”

“I am no longer twelve, Havoc,” Ed spat, “Stop talking to me like I am.”

“Hmmm,” the man said and turned to look ahead again, _as this was optimum driving position, really_.

Ed sighed and let his head thunk back against the seat.

“No, I'm sorry. I _know_ Roy is going to be busy. At least I thought I knew,” he rubbed his palms down his legs, “I guess I didn't know as much as I thought I knew,” he finally admitted, “I just get tired of going home alone and going to bed alone...”

“To much information,” Havoc said from the front seat, then grinned into the rearview mirror.

Edward gave him the middle finger salute.

“Yeah, I guess it is a drag. And having to drive you out into East Bumblefuck isn't a lot of fun for me either,” Havoc said, “It keeps me out late; I guess it's a good thing Sarah works most nights.”

“How is that going?” Ed asked, folding his arms and turning to look at the scenery slowly become dimmer in the fading light of afternoon, “I mean, you've been together for a while now... any future plans?”

“You know, when you have married friends, everyone is supposed to be married,” Havoc snorted.

“I'm not married,” Ed said softly, “That’s for... you know, normal people. I don't have much to do with normal people. Al's going to go off and be normal,” he finished on a mumble.

“Who sets the standards on normal?” Havoc asked from the front seat, “I would like to meet him because I have a few bones to pick. You know, just being with someone and being happy and making them happy? That's normal in my book, chief.”

Ed shrugged, looked down at his pants and picked at them.

“Okay congrats, I feel like I'm twelve,” he muttered.

“That's what I'm here for,” Havoc said, slapping the steering wheel and making a grand gesture, “Can't have you getting too big for your britches.”

“Are we there yet?” came the petulant tone from the back.

****

“I apologize, this is last minute, I'll make it up to you,” the General pleaded over the desk.

Ed ticked off the excuses on his fingers.

“That is what you said yesterday and the day before that, you know... why don't you just _live_ here? You're never at home anymore, I might as well live alone,” he snarled.

“Ed,” Roy appealed, “I can't just blow these things off, I have to be available and visible and this is _important_. As for living here... I was thinking perhaps we should take an apartment in the city?” Roy glanced up from under his bangs, “We could live at the house on the weekends.”

Ed just started at him, then raised his hands and dropped them.

“WHAT? Are you serious?! I don't know about you, but I like living out of the city. I mean it was fine when I was a kid, it was kind of exciting... and what about R.D.'s yard? He won't have much of a yard if we move into the city. What about the hedges? Huh, who's gonna trim those and take care of the yard? What if someone realizes we aren't there all the time and breaks in? What about my desk? Are we going to be able to get an apartment big enough for both of our desks? I don't know about you, but I have to have my home desk because I do a lot of paper grading at home. And closets! I like the big closets!”

The General was doing some of his own staring at that point. His eyebrow climbed and the corresponding corner of his mouth turned down.

“You've certainly gotten domestic,” he said.

“Domestic?!” his blond lover howled, “Is that anything like gay?! Just because a guy _likes_ his house, his manhood is called into question?! What is it with you people? I'm not _domestic_ like a fuckin' housewife! I'd just as soon shove an apron up your big and hooked nose! All I want is for you to come the fuck home with me at night so I'm not there by myself -- and R.D. _doesn't_ count -- and I just want you to fuckin' be a home when I'm at home because I don't get to see you all day and is that too much to fuckin' ask?!”

The General reached up and ran a finger along his nose.

“My nose isn't hooked,” he said.

“I'll hook you up one fuckin' side and down the other,” Ed seethed.

“Okay look, I'll clear my schedule tomorrow and I'll take you _out_ , anywhere you want to go, then we'll go home and spend a nice evening with just each other and maybe some music and wine... deal?”

“You aren't buying your way out of this one,” Ed said, “When you mean out, do you mean dress up out or where I want to go out?”

“Anything you want,” his General placated.

“I'd have to bring a change of clothes tomorrow, because I wouldn't want to wear my school clothes,” the Professor folded his arms.

The General walked around his desk and stopped in front of the Professor. When he leaned over a bit, the Professor tilted his head up.

“It won't be forever,” the General said softly against Ed's lips after the kiss.

“It will only feel that way,” Ed returned and then sighed, “I guess I should go and find Havoc.”

“He's waiting for you in the motor pool,” the General said.

Ed held his tongue and squared his shoulders, retrieved his briefcase and headed for the door.

“I'll try to be home before midnight,” the General called after him and the Professor sagged a little when he was out of sight down the hall, anticipating another night of discussing his troubles with a small black and white terrier who'd taken to sleeping on his pillow above his head.

****

He sat on the couch, since the General wasn't in his office when he'd come in. His spare clothes were in the older man’s bathroom for which Roy had the only key, _(he could just alchemize the door open and then repair it after he was done, but if the General came in while he was doing it, all he would do is complain that Ed had ruined a perfectly good door and no matter how much Ed protested that he'd put it back just the way he found it, the General would say it would never be the same and Ed would hear about it... forever.)_

He'd only been sitting there for about five minutes when he looked up as the door to the office opened, smile crossing his face, but it was Havoc. The man stuck his head in the room and observed Ed on the couch, then carefully looked around the rest of the room, but didn't enter. Ed arched an eyebrow and snorted, but the Lieutenant Colonel didn't come in. Instead, he extended his hand around the door and waved a white envelope between two fingers. Ed eyed the envelope and the man waving it, then got to his feet and walked to the door. As he approached, Havoc backed up a bit, holding the envelope at full arm’s length. Ed plucked it from the man’s fingers and Havoc ducked out, shutting the door as he went, leaving the bewildered Professor standing alone.

 _  
I know this is no excuse, but I'm sorry... last minute... I forgot... I promise..._

Ed crumpled up the note, whipped it at the desk and stood shaking for a moment. He raised his hand and snapped his fingers, over and over. In his imagination, the marble melted and the desk burned its way through the floor, falling into the unsuspecting secretarial pool below. The women scattered, screaming; the fire alarms went off in the complex. The whole of the place was evacuated, the General was located and fired on the spot and Ed took him home, where he stayed and was the fuckin' _domesticated_ one for the rest of his days.

He reached up and rubbed at his temple, trying to keep from grinding his teeth to powder and snapping his jaw in the process. He took a few steps back and sat hard on the couch, doing absolutely nothing but seeing red for several long seconds. It had been a long time since he'd felt this way. A long time since a smirking Colonel, or an idiot alchemist, or a stupid civilian or an Ishbahlan with a scar had made him seize up with the need to just _break_ things.

 _Deep breaths, deep breaths_ , Al repeated over and over in his mind. _But don't hyperventilate. You always go from one extreme to another_ , Al said patiently.

What was Al doing? Was he with Riza? Was he happy? Sure he called and sure he told Ed everything that was going on... Why the fuck was Roy doing this to him?!

The door opened again and Ed froze, hoping against hope that some dumbass, thoughtless, back stabbing General realized what a complete and utter bastard he was being, and in doing so, was rushing to try and intercept a Lieutenant Colonel with a damning note he'd given him to pass along. Seeing as he'd failed to stop said note from falling into Ed's hands, he was ready to crawl to him on his knees and grovel for forgiveness before kissing his shoes. No, not kissing his shoes, polishing them with his tongue.

Havoc stuck his head around the door again and swallowed hard.

“Dismissed!” Ed barked, “Dis-fuckin'-missed! Services not required!”

Havoc saluted and the door shut again, leaving Ed alone and in silence to contemplate the many ways he could somehow learn to hex the General. Hyperactive bladder wouldn’t be a bad curse, he'd have to stay home then, or wear adult diapers. He'd stay home; no way he'd be caught dead in adult diapers.

He closed his eyes and slid sideways on the couch, coming up against the arm and just laying there. His brother was off having a life, his lover was off having a career and here he was, running in place. He felt... sorry for himself. Sure, he'd done it before, when he was half his current age and his brother was trapped in steel and his whole life centered around his sins, but he thought, finally, he was over it.

“I just want to go home and not be alone,” he murmured to the room around him.

“That could be arranged,” the room answered back.

Ed rose swinging. One moment he was slumped on the couch, eyes closed, the next he was throwing blows at a black haired interloper who was almost as much of a bastard as the one that stood him up. Each strike was neatly dodged or parried. He jumped onto the coffee table and brought up his flesh leg; a strong forearm blocked it and he swung himself back in order to avoid the punch aimed at his mid section.

“You've been practicing,” the Prince said, grinning as he ducked another blow.

“And I'm just in the mood to demonstrate on your head,” the Professor growled and threw another punch.

“Might I suggest a more suitable place for combat? You seem to need to work off a little steam. Tell me, where is the General?”

The volley of punches that came after that casual statement surprised even the Prince.

****

The General campaigned and the Professor trained. It went on like that for several days that turned as they will into weeks and eventually months, and a certain form of resignation seemed to settle over Edward. Events and balls were no longer something to complain about, the suits and pomp and circumstance around them became second nature. More often than not, a certain Xingian Prince made the stodgiest of affairs tolerable and many speeches were missed as balconies, empty rooms and other such places were located. The Professor found, against his will, that the Prince was a fascination. Bandying words and adventures with him brought an appreciation of his wit, his intelligence and his ambitions.

“Tell me about the stone,” the Prince whispered one night in a dark garden maze outside a palatial event facility, “I think it's time you tell me some stories.”

“Stories?” the Professor turned and walked a bit into the maze, “I don't have any stories worth telling, nothing that involves moon goddess or foxes with abnormal tails.”

The Prince clasped his hands behind his back and remained where he was; Edward could just pick out the curve of his smile in the wan light falling over them from the ballroom balcony above.

“Besides, there is nothing I can tell you,” the Professor said, “It's all military hush-hush and classified. I'm not allowed to tell you.”

“It's not that you can't tell me, it's that you won't tell me,” the Prince said in his mild tone, the edges of which danced in mirth, “There is nothing the military can and can't tell _you_ to do, that is something I simply refuse to believe.”

“I hear a fountain,” the Professor said, “I bet it's at the center. These mazes are a dime a dozen, come on, let's go see it.”

The Prince hummed, and looked over his shoulder toward the building behind him.

“The buffet table will still be there when we get back,” Ed groused.

“Are you sure? There are some rather portly men in charge of the military or have you failed to notice? I imagine the General will be joining them in a few years. He's well on his way already, with the amount of desk time he seems to have,” the Prince's grin turned positively wicked.

“You shut the fuck up,” the Professor snapped, heading into the maze, “Leave Roy out of this; I hate it when you bring him up.”

The Prince wisely chose not to comment and instead started off at a leisurely pace to keep the Professor in sight.

Edward kept making lefts and the Prince smiled at the trick. It wasn't long before the wall of dark greenery yielded before him and the smell of water carried over the air. Edward was already there, standing to the side of a large pond; in its middle, an elegant tower showered the night air in mist.

“Look,” Edward said as Ling drew up to his side, “Fish.”

The Prince glanced down. In the reflection the moon cast over the pond, he could see patches of white and gold darting about in a random fashion.

“If it was daylight and our shadows cast on the water, they would probably gather looking for hand outs. These are koi, very popular in my country,” the Prince supplied.

“Mooching fish for a mooching monarch, not surprised,” the Professor half grinned.

For a while, their silence was companionable. In the distance, the sudden sounds of music wafted from the direction of the ballroom.

“The band has started up, the speeches must be over,” Edward said, turning his head, “We better head back, Roy will be looking for me.”

“What did you do with the stone once you found it?” the Prince asked.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” the Professor said, tight lipped.

“I would have thought you would replace your limbs, but you didn't. Was it your brother? The one hidden in armor for years? He is not as tall as I would have assumed considering the size of the armor he wore. Was it Alphonse who benefited from the stone?”

“I'm heading back; I have nothing to tell you.”

“Did you consume Liore for the sake of your brother?” the Prince asked and the Professor, already heading for the opening, froze in his tracks, his back stiffening.

“Was it worth it?” the Prince said lowly.

The Professor came at him, as the Prince knew he would. It was easy to dodge such a blind attack fueled by... what? Anger? Guilt? Horror or shame?

“That wasn't ME,” the Professor screamed, voice raw and raged, “I didn't do that! I was cleared of that! It wasn't ME!” His voice waged war between tears and screeches; it battled between guilt and shame, “It was some fuckin' mad man who thought he knew GOD! It's not my fault, it's GOD'S fault, do you hear me?! DO YOU HEAR ME?!”

“Yes,” the Prince answered, “So, tell me why a godless man is in a god fearing country, following a military man who wants to be god himself? What did you do with the stone, Edward? Do you still have it? I can make you rich, I can make you powerful... more powerful than he hopes to be with his fancy words and political position.”

“I don't have it,” Edward snarled, swinging at the Prince's head with an automail fist, “I never had it, don't you get it, you fuckin' moron?! I'll tell you another thing, you don't want it! You are just like all the other self-important fucks I've ever met! You have no idea; you won't pay with enough effort. You have no idea of the price!”

“Tell me then,” the Prince begged, “You think you know me, but that is just for your own sake,” he ducked a punch, dodged a kick and again gave the subtle signal for Ran Fan to stay out of it.

“I do know you! You pander, you fawn, you play up and for what?! You're _just like him!_ What are you going to have to show for it? Your name in a history book? So fuckin' what? Most of those dead bastards are there by luck or the lack of it, hook or by crook! Have you ever compared the ones who are really worthy of being written about with the ones who are only infamous?! I have! I've waded through every fucker who did anything remotely interesting in the past, and I tell you, it's not worth it!” The Prince danced out of range, skirting the edge of the pond and Edward pursued, “Listen to me you dumb fuck! I just want to help you!”

The Prince's smile was gone. He parried a blow neatly, slammed his shoulder into Edward’s and they stood locked for a moment like that.

“If you truly want to help me, then you would help me toward my desire,” Ling said flatly, “We play this game, you and I, this game of wanting and denial, and for what? If you wish to have something, you should take it. Why is the wish for power more repugnant than say, the wish for food? Some people need power to live, some people just need air and speculation.” The Prince shoved Edward aside and went into a defensive crouch.

“So it is with you and the General,” he finished.

“So, what of it?” Ed held back, panting slightly, most of his energy and rage spent.

“I would say you were unsuited,” the Prince slowly raised from his defensive position, “but I can't really say. It's more like you are... reversed.”

“Eh?” Ed's eyebrow quirked.

“Tell me, did you pay for the stone with your ambition?” the Prince asked, “The General reaches and yearns, but you are content. How can that be? The great Fullmetal Alchemist, content to be draped in a shadow.”

Ed open opened his mouth, only to close it again. The Prince tilted his head.

“This God you speak of with such disrespect; I think perhaps you've traded one God for another.”

Ed whirled then, marched out the entrance to the fountain and back into the maze. He took a couple of turns before his vision and reason cleared enough for him to realize he'd failed to follow his pattern... hadn't he? Or had he? In frustration and turmoil of matters other than the mind, he clapped his hands together and touched the brambles and branches of the wall hedge in front of him. They parted with a rustling, like a stage curtain, and he pushed through to the next wall, and the next. He startled some uniformed man clutching a girl in a waitress uniform who was obviously not his wife, but he didn't pause until he was in the clearing of the courtyard below the balcony.

He looked up at the balcony, panting slightly and caught himself turning back to look at the maze, but stopped himself. Balling his fists at his sides, he strode back through the downstairs doors, took the curved stairway up to the second level and went through the large and ornate double doors that led into the ballroom proper. The band was on break obviously and the crowd had dispersed. They were all divided up into groups according to rank and cliché as usual. It was a bit empty, but Edward could hear conversation from the adjoining room where the buffet was set up. He stopped near the middle of the floor, all alone there on the marble and grout. It was as if at any moment a spotlight might strike him, the band might play and a gentleman in a dress uniform might come forward to offer his hand.

Lunacy.

He did a slow turn, scanning the little clusters of blue predators dotting the wall and sitting areas. His gaze fell on the back of one in particular, half turned away from him, head bowed and leaning forward slightly, indicating his interest in the conversation huddled between him and his mates. But by fate or attraction, or a bit of both, he straightened, as if the mere touch of a golden gaze drew him. He turned slowly and lifted his head, the skirt of his dress uniform moving with him. When his eye lighted on Ed, his face softened and the smile that grew there was something divine. Edward stood numbly, feeling his stomach sickeningly roll in on itself as his feet seemed to meld to the floor.

He didn't believe in God.

Roy broke from the group, his heels clicking on the marble floor as he headed toward him. Each step echoed against Ed’s chest in an almost painful way. He wanted to step back, turn, move to the side; he didn't want to be conspicuous and in the open. It was almost like being naked to a roomful of strangers.

“Edward,” Roy's voice washed over him and as was his namesake, it ran like fire, “Come and join us, I was wondering where you had gotten off to. I was especially surprised when you weren't the buffet.” The General smiled a small, teasing smile and reached out his hand.

“That's really fucking nice,” Edward hissed, “You think all I do is eat?”

The General blinked, his hand hovering between them.

“I'm really tired of this puppet show, I want to go home,” he turned away so he didn't have to look at the General's hand.

“I'm not done here yet,” Roy said, lowering his voice, “Do you think you could stay a bit longer?”

“It's always about you, isn't it? I'm tired; I’ll find my own way home.”

 _Walk, don't look back._

“Edward,” the General said behind him, but he was heading for the door.

 _Don't look back, keep moving forward._

He didn't hear the click of heels behind him. He slowed outside the door... but nothing. He swallowed and lingered for a moment in the foyer.

 _Don't look back._

He pushed out the double doors and looked at the line of automobiles lined up at the curb. A few drivers glanced up at him, then back down to their respective books or papers or whatever it was drivers did to amuse themselves while waiting. He couldn't just order one of them to take him home... he wasn't a Major anymore. He'd left it behind.

 _Left behind._

No, he wouldn’t. There was too much invested, there was too much history. But sometimes too much of a good thing...

He strode down the line of cars. As he left the lights of the foyer behind, they all just became one never ending line of dark shapes. An occasional flicker of light would pick out an angle here or there, then finally he was free of them as well. His feet left the paved walk and made no noise across the grass, but where was he going really? He stopped there, in the darkness at the fringe of the lawn.

What was happening?

“I answer to no god,” he told the night air around him, “I don't care if he's just a concept or a fucking mortal... I don't care, I only answer to me.”

So where was the Xingian now? Off to shake another foundation, off to make another poor soul question his very existence? Fucking bastards, the lot of them. Then he heard it, the soft foot fall behind him. Did thinking about him somehow summon the Prince? Was that the secret to royalty, always being in the right place at the crucial time? He whirled, lips bull back, right hand clenching with an audible clink.

“I told you there is no god,” he snarled.

“I remember,” the General said, “I'm not here to convince you otherwise.”

 _No, you are only here for my soul._

“I'm finished if you're ready to leave,” Roy said softly, “Thank you for waiting for me, even if you didn't mean to.”

“It's not like I had much choice,” Ed mumbled, “I couldn't figure out which sleek, black, luxury options, fucked hunk of metal we came in,” his eyes flicked to the General's.

 _I'm not asking for your forgiveness, I'm not._

“Well, you're in luck, I remember the driver's face,” the General said lightly, “I think it's this way.” He turned to go back toward the gathering of cars, but didn't hold out his hand.

 _I suppose I deserve that._

Ed trailed him back to the driver and they soon found themselves on the way home.

****

“Okay, does anyone remember why I've brought you here?” the Professor asked, surveying the group standing on the sidewalk. He tilted his face down to peer at them over his glasses. “Anyone at all?”

Gavin suddenly shot his hand into the air, going up on his tiptoes as if to make it more prominent.

“Yes?” the Professor drawled.

“You said we were coming here to look at the works of dead guys who did something lofty in the dim past,” Gavin repeated, almost verbatim.

“Well done,” the Professor said, “Here are the rules: Stay together. I don't mean in little groups all over them place, I mean in one big central group preferably at my back. Touch. Nothing. Let me repeat that: Touch. Nothing. Don't try to eat anything,” he looked pointedly at Duffy, “No shouting, running, horsing around, sleeping, poking your neighbor, looking at your neighbor funny... what am I leaving out?”

“Snickering,” Seth suggested.

“Good one, no snickering,” the Professor continued, “No belittling the achievement of men great enough to have their life’s work encased in glass... I think that covers it. No inventing new things I have to tell you no doing about in the future.”

“This is going to be so boring,” Daniel complained.

“No being bored,” the Professor added.

“Good one, Stanton, now we have to look interested,” Richard said. There was snickering around them and the Professor glanced at them sharply. Daniel eyed his newly discovered rival; no one was supposed to one-liner up him.

The Professor herded them up the steps of the Central Museum of Science and Technology. There were 24 steps; Duffy counted them aloud in a stage whisper he must have thought could only be heard by himself. Seth opened the door and manned it as his classmates filed him past him and then trotted in at the Professor's side. They paused at the large maple desk where a nice young lady in a crisp uniform handed each boy a pamphlet with a map printed on the back. Much paper rustling commenced.

“Rustle quieter,” the Professor hissed, “Remember, your behavior not only reflects on the Academy, but it reflects on _me_. Don't make me have to kiss the Dean's ass tomorrow,” he'd given up the harder curse words. Surely ass was allowed. These were _boys_ after all.

“Dean's ass,” Daniel said. There was snickering that was quickly squelched as a few boys pointed at their neighbors.

There were immediately two camps of thought. To the left was the hall of the Military, complete with replicas of war mongering equipment. To the right was the hall of Sciences and Alchemy, complete with books and interesting plaques. The Professor went right; everyone else went left. By the time the Professor was through with the first plaque, _(under a framed portrait of Van Hawton, the first man in written history to transmute iron out of the earth)_ , he noticed that he was alone. Trying not to seem like he was panicking, he ran madly back through the reception area and into the opposite hall. To be on the safe side, he yelled a few students’ names as he barreled in, so everyone would jump and be edgy and less likely to do damage.

A frantic head count later revealed no one had disappeared and everyone was still generally intact. Although there was one shoe unaccounted for and no one was willing to give up its whereabouts. Muted whines followed him all the way back to the hall of Sciences and Alchemy. There was a lot of shuffling and coughing and boys staring at plaques in a way that reminded other museum goers of the joys of watching paint dry. There was whispered speculation about who was actually asleep on their feet half way through the exhibit and then the Professor got mistaken for a student by a security guard. This was highly entertaining for a few minutes and it seemed they might all actually get tossed out with the Professor. There was much disappointed muttering when the Professor managed to control himself and the Hall of Boring Alchemic Tortures continued.

Just when a few of the student’s thought they wouldn't make it, Tom pointed excitedly at a display near the very end of the hall.

“It's the Professor!” he crowed.

“Me?” the Professor croaked and there was a sudden exodus of boys from his side down to where Tom was waving his finger excitedly. Edward moved off slowly to follow them and glanced up at a sign hanging from the roof of the hallway. It read 'Modern Times' and as he passed the displays, he recognized many of the alchemists featured in them. There were some of them he'd even met before and grouped in with them was one of them he knew intimately. He let his eyes trail across the blurb printed at the bottom of an enlarged photo, but the only words he picked out where 'Colonel Roy Mustang, The Flame Alchemist'.

“Professor, come see,” Seth called excitedly and picked up his pace.

The case near the end was tall. Inside of it looked to be a pillar of stone, but further inspection revealed it was a large stone hand, palm turned upwards. As he came to stop in front of the case, an enlarged photograph glared back at him from the wall and a scowling twelve year old dared him to make comment.

'State Certified Alchemist at twelve? The story of Edward Elric.” Read the placard on the front of the case.

“Where did that stone hand come from?” Daniel asked and glanced over at him. Edward looked at it and his eyebrows rose. That stupid fight; he and Al transmuting at each other when just words failed to get their point across… He remembered that, the dusty little town. They had hauled one of those things here? They had preserved the frustrated anger of adolescent brothers under glass? He shook his head.

“I don't remember,” he lied.

“Look, there's General Mustang,” Duffy said, pointing at another picture in the display, “And you and some woman, who is that? You look like you were our age.”

“That's Colonel Hawkeye. Well, she's a Colonel now... back then she was a First Lieutenant,” Edward supplied, glancing at the photo, “I was fifteen,” he mumbled. It wasn't a particularly good shot; Riza was half cropped out of it and Roy was standing to his side. He hadn't been looking at the camera either and he didn't even recall the instance in which the photograph has been taken, or why.

“Let's move on,” he suddenly announced, “I would think you would all be sick of me by now,” he said, heading out of the hall, “Let's go look at that Military stuff you were all so hot to look at earlier.”

But it wasn't as if that helped either. Surrounded, literally. A Lieutenant Colonel had come seeking a man that was best forgotten and found a boy in a wheelchair... then proceeded to dominate his entire life. He watched his students drifting from one display to the next. They didn't know, they were just boys. He was a boy for a little while, but it seemed detached, almost someone else's memories. Where would he be now if not for a man's ambitions then? A cripple in Risembool with an animated suit of armor for a brother? No, they would have found another way, maybe a better way. Maybe they wouldn't have taken the word of an opportunist; maybe he wouldn’t have enslaved himself to the state.

Maybe Hughes would be alive; maybe Liore would have been spared, maybe and maybe and maybe...

“Professor?” Seth said hesitantly and he stared at the boy for a moment before truly seeing him.

“Let's get lunch,” the Professor said, putting on a smile, “Get everyone together.” Seth nodded and raced away to tell the others.

 _You needed me; I thought I needed you. You were on your way up; I was a step in the right direction, a rung in the ladder. You wanted to keep me close. I wanted... I wanted... I didn't know what I wanted._

 _You knew that._

He herded the boys into the museum cafe, he fed them, let them run about a bit because they were just _boys_ , then managed to get them all on the bus and back to the academy in time for the last bell.

Class dismissed.

 _After all this time, I've finally learned my lessons._

He caught a cab and left the Military complex behind.

****

If his presence was a surprise, no one let on. He was bowed to, shown to the sitting room and wasn't made to wait long.

“Forgive the delay,” the Prince said, breezing in past his bowing servants, “Professor, I welcome you once again to Xing. How can I be of service?”

There were no words, just a roll the shoulders and a squaring of the jaw.

“I see. Shall we retire the gardens? Ran Fan, have tea sent out.”

The woman bowed silently as the Professor and the Prince left the room.

Ed stripped off his jacket, vest and shirt, and dumped them unceremoniously over the back of one of the patio chairs.

“You mean business,” Ling murmured and did similarly, leaving his sash and high collared shirt lying over the Professor's clothes. He strode to the middle of the garden where the grasses were worn down and familiar, and bowed to the Professor in his usual flippant formality.

“Let's play our game,” Ed said, “A question for each blow landed.”

“I accept,” the Prince said and took a defensive stance.

The first round ended evenly, one for one.

“Do you have the stone?”

“No.”

“Is it the stone you want, or me?”

“Both.”

The second round the same.

“Can you help me find the stone?”

“....I can tell you what you need to know.”

“Are you using me to get what you want?”

“If wanting you is using you, then yes.”

The third round ended before it began.

“I'm sick of games, fucking sick of games. I've played them my whole life and I've never won,” Ed’s eyes searched a face no longer foreign.

“Then let's just dispense with them and give each other what we need,” there was no smirk or grin.

“The stone has a very high price, one which no sane man is willing to pay.”

“Sanity is something I am rarely accused of; it would be interesting to put that to the test.”

“You're not a murderer, I refuse to believe that. I learned the hard way to be content with what you have, why won't you listen to me?”

“I do listen to you; I just choose not to hear you. My ambitions have no need of your cautionary tales. Some lessons are best learned the hard way.”

“You're a stupid fuck is what you are, aren't you listening to me? The stone is forged in blood, how far are you really willing to go? Who do you hate enough to give to the damn array?”

“Who was your sacrifice?”

“I sacrificed no one, the stone we had... we didn't make.”

“You stole it?”

“No, it was forced on us!”

“But you used it, despite knowing all of this?”

“I didn't! It was Al! He didn't know any better, he's not to blame! He did it to save me... to save my worthless ass.”

Then there were arms around him and his mouth was covered. The taste wasn't the same; it was different, almost sweet and earthy. The fingers on his back, they were all wrong too. Too long, they didn't hit those spots right along his spine like they were supposed to. The chest he was against was narrower, as were the hips that pressed to his. When his mouth was released, he hung his head back to pant and the lips that took his throat and the side of his neck were somehow cooler.

 _This is what you want? Is this what you want?_

“Come inside with me,” a voice said in his ear. It had a soft accent that he recognized.

 _One lover in my entire life._

“There are things I want to show you,” the voice murmured on. Lips dropped to his automail shoulder, a tongue flicked over the joining of steel and flesh.

 _He has always been there, I've never known anything else._

“In time, I can make you forget anything or anyone,” the voice coaxed.

 _He's always been there, even when I wasn't._

“You won't regret it,” the voice whispered.

 _He loves me._

“He loves me,” Edward said aloud, “He loves me,” he repeated, “I'm sorry, he loves me and I know it... I _know_ that. Ling... this ends. It ends now.”

The Prince's mouth left his flesh and for the briefest moment, Edward wondered what it would have been like, but it was fleeting and quickly passed.

“I'm sorry and I lied to you, I won't tell you about the stone. I do this as your friend, even if you won't see it that way. I thought I wanted something more, but I don't. I am content with what I have. Content is not a bad thing, some people never find it and they search their whole lives. It's not settling for something, it's _finding_ something. It doesn't matter if you have no comparison. Some people will say you haven't lived, you don't know what you're missing. Well guess what? I don't fucking care what I'm missing because I have what I want, and it's all I want.”

The Prince said nothing, his face almost blank.

“You said you wanted nothing but my friendship and that is all I have to offer. It's a take it or leave it situation, Ling, but this ends here and now. If you can't let it be, then when I walk out those doors, I never want to see you again. So what is it?”

The Prince frowned then, and Edward studied his face. In truth, he wanted Ling for his friend. The enigmatic Xingian had, in his way, filled a void he hadn't known he'd had and he would rather not have to try and fill it again.

“You drive a hard bargain,” the Prince said at last, “Grace in the face of defeat is a royal attribute, don't you agree?” The grin slipped firmly into place and Edward closed his eyes briefly, “A kiss goodbye?” the Prince asked.

“Why? Going to drop dead? My luck isn't that good,” the Professor joked. It felt better, it felt good. He didn't turn his head when the Prince tilted his and leaned down a bit, but he kept his mouth closed.

“I was wondering why you didn't come by the office,” a voice said behind them. The Prince pulled back and lifted his eyes to look over Edward's head.

“General,” the Prince said and for once in all the time Edward had known him, he faltered.

“Your highness,” Roy's voice carried from the patio. “I stopped by to see if you had seen Edward, since he came up missing this afternoon. I suppose he forgot I had cleared my schedule. I thought to stop and offer him a ride home,” the General said in his even tones, “But if he'd rather not...?”

Ed turned and walked toward the patio. He went to where he'd left his clothes, extracted his shirt and pulled it on. The General bowed abruptly to the Prince, spun on his heel and strode back into the house. Ed scrabbled at the rest of his clothes, just grabbing them and running to catch up.

A random servant opened the front door for the General, bowing once as he passed and again as Edward hurried by. Edward hardly noticed, his eyes trained on a blue clothed back just ahead of him. Roy went around to the driver's side of the car and opened the door, sliding in. Ed dropped his vest on the curb and snatched it up with one hand as he grabbed the car door handle with his other. Roy wouldn't drive away with him hanging on the door... would he? He fumbled and yanked the door open, practically threw himself into his seat and pulled the door shut.

The car shuddered as the General cranked it and Edward worked at the buttons of his shirt as it pulled away from the curb. There were no words, only the sounds of traffic around them until they hit the thoroughfare and even there, there was only silence. The windshield was dirty; Ed trailed his eyes from one smudged spot to another, then around the curve of the window to the side window in the door.

He couldn't say... 'It’s not what it looked like', because he knew what it looked like and if the General had been a few minutes earlier... besides, isn't that what every caught lover said? It was a strange place to be in, here and now. This car, this atmosphere where everything was thrown into question with no voice brave enough to speak the answers. He kept waiting. He glanced down at the hands in his lap. His flesh hand was easily made out in the fading sunlight and his automail hand was harder to pick out against his dark trousers. The General took a deep breath. Ed's eyes darted to the side and he didn't dare turn his head. His chest tensed, his throat tightened. A million and one things all fought to the forefront of his mind only to be dismissed in a panic.

But the General didn't speak.

Again, it was the waiting. He thought he felt a trickle of sweat run from under his hair down the back of his neck, but he didn't move to wipe it off. If he moved, somehow, irrationally, he thought he would leave himself open, invite the impending attack. He had to stay where he was, braced for the inevitable. He had to have his wits about him. The General, after all, _was_ a General; he would know when to strike if his guard was down. Passing road lights winked in his peripheral vision and his jaw had started a dull ache just below his earlobe. He turned his flesh hand slowly, palm down on his thigh and rubbed. The General shifted a bit and seemed to clear his throat. Ed went so tense he felt himself quiver on the seat.

But the General remained silent.

He almost, almost caught himself lifting his hand to his mouth, to tug on his bottom lip. He hadn't done anything, he really hadn't. It was just a kiss, it was two and one of them didn't count because it was meant to cancel out all the other ones. It was the end. He'd made the break, he was clean. He should just tell Roy. He should just say _It's not what you think. I know what you saw, but it's over, not that it ever was._ That was rational and logical, Roy would understand him. Roy would forgive him. It would be over. This silence would go away. His hand was bouncing up and down and he glanced down at it, confused. It took a moment to realize that it was actually his knee that was bouncing and his hand was just resting on top of it. He risked a glance up, looking at a road sign; it was the exit for Wilton. That was two exits away from Hampton, which is the exit they took to get home. It was too soon and too far away and it was so fucking quiet in that car.

It seemed like no time when the car slowed to stop at the top of the exit ramp. It was a good excuse, raise your head, look at him; but he couldn't. He leaned with the motion of the car as they turned left. They would then go down to Hawthorne drive and turn right; after that, another right on Wheeler and then a left onto Flowering Branch. Fourth house down on the left.

And then they were there.

The General got out of the car, carefully locking the door like always. The keys in his hand tapped against the car door and then he was turning away, going up the walk.

Ed sat in the car for a few moments longer. He watched the General open the front door, he saw a flash of dancing black and white at his feet. The General went inside and pulled the door shut behind him.

He's not shutting me out, he's keeping R.D. in. Keep telling yourself that.

He did it all in a rush. He got the seat belt caught in the door, but decided it wasn't worth it to go back. He almost slipped once in the grass, got up onto the porch, reached for the knob and hesitated.

Don't be locked.

He didn't realize he was holding his breath until the knob turned easily in his hand. He pushed the door open and pushed through, because this was his life. He belonged here, this was his home. The General stood at the end of the foyer. He was undoing his uniform jacket to leave it in the hall closet for the morning. He often did this. His spare one was in the bedroom in the closet, still in brown paper from the cleaners.

It wasn't very far to the end of the foyer, only ten or so steps. He took the first two, shutting the door behind him and checking quickly that R.D. didn't escape in his moment of indecision, but the small dog was in the archway of the living room cocking his spotted head and wagging his tail. Ed took two more steps, making it a total of four so far. The General had his jacket on the hanger and was putting it in the closet. He took another, making it five; halfway there and halfway not and it felt almost as if he where wading through water. The General closed the closet door, tugged at his cuffs and turned slowly toward him.

“When...” he started.

“It wasn't like that,” Ed interrupted.

“Don't give me that! I might only have one eye left, but it works!” the General shouted.

“I said it wasn't like that! Fucking listen to me for once!”

“All I do is listen to you and your excuses! What the hell am I supposed to believe this time?!”

 _No, what are you doing? Don't yell at him! He's upset, he thinks he saw something, you can't fix this by yelling!_

Ed struggled to control his breathing and his volume.

“I know you saw him kiss me...”

“And you kissing back...”

“NO! I mean, I was but it didn't mean anything!”

“So it was just a fling? You just thought you'd see what it was like?”

 _That fucking mocking, condescending tone. That smirking bastard behind a desk._

“NO! Stop doing that! Stop doing that shit; I'm not your fucking subordinate anymore! You don't fucking talk to me like that!”

“You are nothing more than the same self-centered, egotistical, pathetic brat that stood on a train platform and told me I was responsible for his entire life! And you know what?! I tried to be! What the hell is wrong here, Ed?! I'll talk to you any damn way I please. You won't make me the guilty party this time!”

“I didn't ask you for a damn thing! You came to me; you stuck your nose where it wasn't wanted! I was fucking ten years old, you son of a bitch! Proud of yourself?! You sold out the soul of a ten year old and then you fucked him over when he was fifteen and I don't mean that figuratively! You have dominated my whole fucking life and I'm sick and goddamn tired of it! You arrogant fucking bastard! You set me up and slapped me down more times then I can count, what did you fucking expect?!”

The General was suddenly striding toward him and for the life of him, he couldn't hold his ground. He back pedaled, the small of his back connected with the foyer table and he gasped and skirted around it. His eyes widened as he flattened himself to the wall. What the hell was he doing? Why the hell was he running? He didn't back down to GOD and he wouldn't back down to a man. The General's hands slammed to the wall at either side of his head and he squeezed his eyes shut before forcing them back open. The General leaned then, slowly. He tilted his head and for one bizarre moment Ed thought he was going to kiss him, but instead he felt the General's breath on his neck, right below his ear.

“You smell like him,” said a voice, gravely and low. Then he was gone. Roy pushed off the wall and walked down the hall, not looking back.

Ed stood where he was, panting slightly and seeing nothing.  



	19. Chapter 19

It was in a sense, too perfect. Even though the manners matched and as a Colonel, she couldn't help but be pleased, but the pleasure of dating a gentleman was growing rather thin. It was like him, however, to try to be the perfect companion, the perfect compliment to a career she'd devoted her entire adult life _(and honestly a little before true adulthood)_ to. He would never want to shame her or give her reason to think he was base or insensitive, because that was just _Alphonse_. Perfect to almost a fault. It was comfortable, of that there was no doubt, and comfort was an important commodity, but there was this little nagging feeling, right at the base of her skull, that somehow the scale remained balance and untipped... well, what was wrong with comfortable?

Comfortable meant no surprises. That wasn't such a bad thing as one might suppose. It meant order from chaos; it meant accomplishment in ruling one's destiny. It was everything she desired, but as time passed and her attraction deepened, she found it was nothing she wanted. There must be some way to _engage_ him, to make him shake free of his self-imposed properness and be... well be _Alphonse_.

She was used to command; she was confident in her abilities to steer her subordinates in the direction she desired them to go. She rare had to issue an outright command and in this she took pride, but with Alphonse it wasn't as cut and dry. When she hoped he would take the initiative, he deferred. When he was invited to be in charge, he delegated. It was enough, in a way, to make her own head swim. Why is it he was so much easier to read when they weren't... this? And what was this, anyway?

It was... comfortable. She tapped her pen on her desk and frowned slightly. Across the room, First Lieutenant Pharr cleared his throat but she didn't look up, she just gave a little wave of one hand. She needed to find some common ground between them and then push him off onto the curb. She needed to make him question what was for, what could be, and she just needed him to _do_ something. Something other than being lovely, perfect, completely flawless Alphonse.

As if on cue, he walked in. Hayate paraded at the end of his leash and Alphonse bent to release him of it. He smiled as the dog made his way to the pillow behind Riza's desk and flopped over onto it.

“You wore him out,” she said with a small, half smile.

“I carried him most of the way,” Alphonse grinned, curling the leash up his hands and pocketing it, “Are we still on for lunch?” he asked, tilting his head.

The Colonel rose from her desk, dropped the pen on it and straightened her jacket. She went around the desk to his side and slipped her fingers into the crook of his elbow when he offered it. He turned and nodded to First Lieutenant Pharr, who gave them both a grin and a broad wink, and lead her out the door, slowing his stride and pace to match her own.

“I hear the symphony might play in the park on Saturday,” he said, turning his head to look down at her, “We could take lunch, I could make it,” she felt a little twinge then. Her choice of career hadn't lent itself to making her culinary proficient, therefore it was Alphonse that did most of the cooking. While she thought it absurd that such a notion should bother her, _(for she was never in her own opinion, womanly)_ it did.

“I should really learn to do more than boil water,” she murmured.

“I don't mind,” Alphonse said cheerfully, “in fact, I rather like it. I used to cook for brother all the time when we were traveling. I'm grateful that it is actually tasty rather than just serviceable. Ed wasn't much for offering his opinions as much as he was for just shoveling it in.”

“I'm not sure I want to go to a concert on Saturday,” she said, “I've been rather neglectful of my personal regiment. Why don't I teach you something I can, and in exchange you teach me to cook?”

Alphonse looked surprised for a moment, then pleased and she almost got the impression of an all over wag, like a puppy so happy to see you its enthusiasm can't be contained in a mere _tail_ , that it must make a full body demonstration.

“That sounds intriguing,” he said, a smile tugging the corners of his lips, “So what did you have in mind for our outing?” he grinned.

“The firing range,” she replied matter-of-factly, “I have a couple of rifles I need put through their paces.”

She was rather impressed with his ability to keep his grin in place while the rest of his facial expressions retreated to hide behind his neck.

****

“This is a repeating rifle,” she said, lifting the weapon from its case. It was long and had a polished wooden handle. When Al commented on it, he was corrected.

“That is the stock,” she said with authority, “It has a lever action, it can fire several shots before being reloaded, hence the term repeating,” she informed him.

Al felt like there might be a test afterward.

“This rifle belonged to my grandfather,” she said and that made Al must less inclined to touch it, “It's a 66, it can only use a rim-fire round. This other rifle is a 76, it can use the more potent .44 center-fire round.”

“Oh,” Al said.

Riza flipped the rifle in her hands, then pointed and a litany began that Al struggled to keep up with. He was sure it would be on the test.

“Side plate, magazine follower, carrier spring, mainspring, firing pin,” she ticked off as her finger darted over the gun’s metal parts, “trigger, stock...” she trailed off when she glanced up at him, “Alphonse, are you alright? There won't be a test,” she reassured him.

He let go of the breath he had been holding and tried to give a light laugh that came out sounding like a man being reprieved from the gallows.

“Oh I knew there wouldn't be any test,” he said, “I was just interested you know, you are so knowledgably and it's a great hobby, only it isn't a hobby to you is it? I mean to say, you are a marksman and an expert. You have trophies and medals and commendations... and oh say, what is this part again?” he riveted on the rifle in her hands and pointed.

She wanted to kiss him.

Instead, she pushed the rifle into his hands. His eyes widened and he handled it gingerly, like a new uncle with his infant niece. The look he gave her reminded her of small helpless things facing danger.

“I'll set up a target,” she said, and turned to walk down the stall to the end. She pulled over a bale of hay and set up a cardboard target, already peppered with buckshot. She walked back down to where Alphonse was doing a good impersonation of a wooden solider; he hadn't moved a muscle since she'd put the rifle in his hands. She opened the ammo box she'd brought with them and took out two shells.

“Now we'll load the rifle,” she said. Alphonse smiled and nodded in such a slight manner that not a hair moved out of place.

“Alphonse, the rifle isn't glass and it won't go off if you are merely holding it,” she coaxed, “Now here, take these.” She pried one of his hands free and slipped the two shells into it, “See this impression here?” she pushed the flat metal plate in with her finger, “Put the shells one at a time in here, with the brass part pointing toward the stock.”

Al took a few deep breaths, then nodded again more firmly and pressed one of the shells to the plate. He fumbled it and it dropped the floor. His eyes went wide and he jumped back. Riza bent down and picked up the shell.

“It's safe Alphonse, it won't go off just because you drop it. The rifle on the other hand could, if the lever has been cocked.”

He reached out to take the shell from her fingers, but she curled her fingers over his for a moment. He was trying, very hard, only to please her. She knew his feelings about firearms, both he and his brother had avoided them like the plague.

His eyes were trained on her hand holding his; he flicked them up to catch her gaze for a moment.

"Here," she said quietly and took the rifle from his hand, turned it and smoothly slid the shells into the chamber, "Now, hold it like this." She demonstrated once and handed the rifle back to him. He hiked it up to his shoulder, and she stepped behind him, reaching up to adjust his grip, "Don't hold it against your shoulder, it has a kick." She had to lean against his back to correct his stance and he went still, but then she felt him relax all over. They stood there for a moment like that, touching, moving together for a common purpose. They had moved together for a common purpose many times, but this was the first time they moved together for themselves.

"Riza," Al said softly.

"Cock the lever," she whispered back, "Put your fingers through it and push it down until it stops in one clean move."

His right arm moved forward, his right knee bent and she moved with him, her hand sliding along his arm and moving down his side to his waist.

"Bring it up and aim toward the target, remember not to rest it against your shoulder," she encouraged.

He raised the rifle and bent his head forward; she felt his body move against her and she steadied his left arm. She leaned a bit to the side to see past his shoulder.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"As I'll ever be," he said, turning his head just slightly.

"Focus on your target," she said. She was a bit surprised when he didn't turn his head back right away, but she saw a smile tug at the corner of his mouth and he looked back at the target.

"Don't jerk the trigger, squeeze it," she said softly in his ear, "Slow and steady, I'm right behind you."

He took a breath and held it. She felt it through his back and she went still as well. There was no sound at all until the report of a rifle bounced off the firing range walls and the man, _(yes, the man)_ before her released his breath and took another. She stepped around him to see how he had done. He was a little to the left of center, but his aim was true. He lowered the rifle, holding it with more ease at his side and he smiled at her.

"Well done," she said, "You have always been a fast learner."

"I can't help but be a good student with such an expert teacher," he said. That lovely, easy flattery he handed out like sweets to an indulged child.

"Shall we try the other rifle?" she said, moving to him, reaching for the gun in his hand.

"Riza," he said again and she looked up at him, "I don't want to mess this up. I have a feeling you're looking for something from me, but I don't know what. I feel that it isn't my place to ask, I mean I feel I should _know_ , but I don't. I've waited for this chance for a long time," he searched her eyes with his.

She reached up and cupped his cheek, the pad of her thumb stroked over it. His eyes closed, he turned his face into her hand, his lips pressed into her palm.

"You terrify me," she admitted and his eyes snapped open, "I fear what you expect, not only of me, but of yourself. In this... we are alike. I thought I knew what I wanted once and I had a chance to have it, but when I did have it... well it turned out that it wasn't what I was looking for. It always seems there is an agenda that is not my own, but one I need to make happen. I've never had my own cause. I always integrated myself into someone else’s; something I found worthy and in that way, I thought myself worthy. It's different with you and it may be presumptuous to think that I am _your_ cause, so that makes me afraid of what it is I might be messing up," she didn't move her hand and he didn't move his cheek.

"No," he said, "I'm through with causes and so are you. I mean, haven't we given enough, can't we just have _this_? I promise I won't expect anything, I'll just take it as it comes, I'm good at that. My whole life to this point has been nothing short of one day at a time. You can tell me what you want; you don't have to be afraid, not of me, never of me."

"But I don't know what I want," she said softly.

"Then let's find out, together. Let's just be together," he said, "That is all I want."

It was easy to step against him, feel the warmth of his side and the weight of his arm as it went around her. His fingers splayed across her back and he rested his hand there and when he kissed her this time, it was different. They had kissed, yes, in all this time standing side by side hoping to be what they wanted to be, but there was something else in this kiss, almost a release. Sometimes the things you know are just as frightening as the things you don't know. As she curled her fingers into the fabric of his shirt, as she tilted her head back, yielding to the pressure of his lips, she decided not to be afraid anymore.

****

Al lifted his other hand, intending to put his arms around her and was momentarily baffled by the rifle there. He couldn't press that to her back, and he tried to stretch and lay it on the nearby table, _(without removing his lips from hers)_ , but he couldn't quite reach. When he tried to pull away a bit, her fingers bunched tighter in his shirt and the tip of her tongue met his. He momentarily forgot to breath, along with remembering anything that might be in his hand. The thing in his hand became an annoyance, because really, he should have his arms around her and she should be pressed up against his... yes, she should be, so he opened his hand to drop whatever it was that was preventing him from being able to pull her against him. It fell with a clatter and she jumped, her eyes widening, but now he had both arms around her and their stomachs touched. Their stomachs! No one ever touched him there but himself, and maybe Ed, when they were fighting.

She pulled back a little, but he followed and it caused them to over-balance slightly. She took a few more steps back until she came to rest against the back wall. He could feel the seams of the gloves she wore as she gripped his shirt at his sides. There was some subtle shift and her leg moved to the side. Somehow, his happened to be right there to slide between them and when finally, they both had to breathe, their foreheads still touched.

She wet her lips and he tried to slow his breathing. They stood almost locked like that for several seconds, lost in this air around them.

“I... I suppose we should try the other rifle now,” she said and looked up at him. He took a moment to focus on her words instead of her lips, but then he nodded slightly and stepped back. He turned around and froze at the sight of her grandfather's rifle lying on the floor.

“I'm so sorry!” he cried, rushing forward and scooping it off the ground. He held it gingerly in his hands as she walked over.

“Forgive me, Riza. I don't know what came over me; I shouldn't have just dropped it like that. Please tell me it's alright...”

She reached up and put her hand on his cheek, stilling his frantic rush of words. She then lowered her hands and took the rifle from his grip, inspecting it and flipped it in her hands.

“No harm done,” she said, “These rifles were built for endurance, that's why it’s still around to be handed down in the first place. “

Al watched her carry it back to the table and lay it in its case, then pull open the second one. She looked over her shoulder and smiled.

“What is it you plan to teach me to cook?” she asked.

He hadn't the vaguest idea.

****

“Our menu for tonight is simple. We are going to roast a chicken with potatoes, carrots and onions. I used to make this all the time, it's one of Ed's favorites, but you don't have to make bread, he'll just eat store bought, he's not picky,” Al waved his hand.

“Well, that is valuable information if for any chance I should get to cook Ed a meal,” Riza said with a half smile.

Al reddened slightly, but nodded firmly.

“Right, well first off we need the roasting pan,” he went over to the cabinet beneath his oven and pulled out his trusty roaster. It was speckleware and he was quite proud of it, having bought it on one of his many military sojourns; he carted it all the way home in his pack. It spent many years in the General's cupboard and Al was tickled to have the General hand deliver it to his door after he'd gotten his apartment.

“I bet you'd forgotten this,” Roy had said with a small smile on his face. So in a way, it was like Riza's gun, only it hadn't been handed down properly. Only from Al to Roy to Al again, but that counted.

He sat the roaster on the counter and then went to the icebox and pulled out his chicken. It was a fine bird, a four pound roasting hen, freshly plucked with all the giblets and other bits stuffed in a neat, waxed bag, tucked in the bird's body cavity for your gravy convenience. He quickly pulled the little waxed bag out and showed it to Riza.

“Always take this out first,” he cautioned. It was many the cooking novice that roasted the bag and its contents, making a kitchen that smelled for days.

“What is it?” Riza asked.

“It's the innards,” Al supplied and started to expound on their many uses, but Riza made a slight face, “Just throw them away,” he said hurriedly.

“My grandfather was very fond of gizzards,” she said, rubbing her elbow and still making that slight face, “He tricked me into eating one once. He liked them fried, my grandmother use to fry them for him all the time.”

Al wasn't sure which side of the fence to lean on. It was obvious she had a strident dislike for gizzards. On the other hand, it might be a fond memory of her grandparents, the way she told him about her grandmother frying them. He decided to be cautionary.

“I'm not sure all that fried food is healthy,” he said nodding.

Riza hugged her elbows and nodded, tilted her head and looked at him. She looked so relaxed and causal, Al didn't realize he was holding the chicken upright by the wings and dancing it back and forth until she commented on it.

“Are you... draining it?” she asked.

“What? Um... okay put the chicken in the roasting pan, no wait, rub it with butter first, butter makes the skin brown,” he dropped the hapless poultry corpse and went back to the icebox for his butter.

He demonstrated the butter rubbing technique handed down through just one generation of his family, then scrubbed and rough-chopped vegetables, answering all her questions about why you had to poke holes in potatoes before putting them in the oven. He closed the oven door with a satisfied thump and winded set his counter top timer.

“And that's all you do?” Riza sounded skeptical, “I was lead to believe cooking was more complicated than this.”

“That's all you do,” he said, wiping his hands on this sink towel, “Now we wait patiently and then reap the benefits of our labors in about an hour or so.”

She looked at him expectantly, like obviously he had something planned in which to while this hour away before dinner. He felt rather flat footed and did a mental scramble.

“Why don't we go into the living room, I'm sure there is something we can do in there,” and he did a little wince because really, he hadn't meant to say that last part out loud.

But she smiled and nodded and preceded him out the kitchen door into the living room area. They both stood around for a moment and then she sat down on the couch. Sophia, who had been curled up in Al's armchair, took her languid time in unfolding, stretching, yawning and leaping down to cross the floor and jump up beside Riza. She was there to leech body heat, which seem to be her primary duty as a feline and she began to insinuate her princessly self in Riza's lap.

“Sophie,” Al started and moved to rescue the Colonel from being shed upon, but she shook her head.

“It's alright, I like Sophia, she's a very mannerly cat,” Riza said. She ran her fingers into the fur along Sohpia's back and Sophia arched accommodatingly, then flopped and curled up. Al stood undecided for a moment, then sat down on the couch beside Riza. Not too close, but close enough to be touching if either of them really wanted to.

“How are things at the office? I don't get to meddle nearly as much as I used to, how is Clayton doing?”

“He's been fine; very busy. How about you lately? What are you doing to keep busy? I know we see each other, but it seems like since we are... dating,” she seem to test the word out, to see if she liked it, “I find that I know less about what you do when I'm not with you. Perhaps I didn't think about it before, which is not to say I wasn't interested, but it seems more relevant now.”

 _I'm relevant!_

“Well, I'm trying my hand at alchemy for hire,” Al said, trying to keep from bouncing beside her.

 _RELEVANT!_

She smiled and nodded her head, asking him to continue.

“I haven't gotten any clients yet,” he confided, “But I did pick out paper for my office stationery and I'm having business cards made. Do you know Handle Printing on Madison? He assured me that the stock choice was very professional.”

“First appearances are very important,” Riza confirmed, “I'm glad to see you taking such a serious interest. You are brilliant Alphonse, and it would be a shame to put such talent to waste in the likes of an office job.”

He felt that he could slide a little closer and he did so, but subtlety. He leaned back on the couch and toyed with the idea of putting his arm along the back of the couch behind her.

“What sort of alchemic services will you be providing?” she asked.

“I'm good at construction and chemical compositions,” Al said confidently, “Also any little odd job that might come my way. I'm not beyond small household repair or identifying substances. I've even toyed with an alchemic way of producing frequencies that would drive rodents out of cellars,” he nodded. He'd been very pleased with that little find, although the neighborhood dogs had been rather upset.

“That would be an invaluable service,” Riza said, still stroking over Sophia's back, “Especially in places such as food warehouses and medical facilities, places where cleanliness is important.”

Al went for it. He threw his arm up along the back of the couch. The side of his hand touched her, just below the nape of her neck; but she didn’t' pull away. As a matter of fact, after a few moments, she leaned back into it. In all his time, in all his travels with Ed, facing things untold and other worldly beings in dimensional gates, he'd never been held in a firmer trap. He didn't dare move.

“I hope by this time next year,” he said airily, “to be done with this renter’s existence. I've had my eye on some property just outside of the city. There are some nice parcels of land available and I've always wanted a house. The house Ed and I grew up in was very roomy and we had the entire outdoors to explore. I think I want something like that again, something to really call my home.”

“You were without for a long time,” Riza said, lifting her eyes to his, “So young and groundless, I often worried about that.”

“It was fine, that's the life we made for ourselves. We did have some stability, I always knew when we came back to base that someone would be there waiting for us, if not missing us. It made it alright.”

“I think back on that and I think maybe there was something more I could have done,” she said, “But that's just worrying about things that can't be changed. I was always told to move forward; I took that advice to heart.”

She was looking at him again. Al had tried many times over to read this woman's heart through her eyes; he was never very successful, but just this time in just this place, he decided to make an educated guess. Instead of answering, he leaned forward. When he tilted his head, she parted her lips and that was all the invitation called for.

She raised her hand, but he caught it. The slow side of her lips against his as he turned more to his side sent feelings to places he didn't know he had. She smelled fresh and clean, with just a hint of something else that he couldn't identify. It wasn't sweet, it wasn't cloying, it was just a female scent. He held her wrist aloft as he tasted her, but she was no novice to the experience. She opened her mouth. Somehow she taught him invasion without him realizing it and the sound she made tightened his groin in such a way as to be painfully embarrassing. But he wouldn't give it up, not for a moment, not for an instant and in that same second, not for a lifetime.

She used her free hand to grip his shoulder and used her weight to tug him toward her as she leaned back toward the arm of the couch. Sophia made a displeased mew and leapt to the floor, but Al hardly noticed. All Al felt was his body, settling against her side, her fingers tightening on his shoulder and her mouth claiming all his senses. Somehow she'd gotten her wrist free from his grip and her other hand slid behind his neck, her fingers threading into the hair at the back of his head.

It was some strange dream, some gate phantom. He'd had them, late at night when everyone else was asleep, sitting alone in his hammered steel, wishing for things beyond the leather grip of a gauntlet. This was one of those 'someday' things he always promised himself, but never truly believed he would achieve. It was his escape from the cold reality; it was the comfort that his brother couldn't give while he slept. She pulled her mouth from his and for that single devastating moment he was almost alone again, sitting in a darkened hallway so the creak of his armored joints wouldn't pull Ed from his well deserved sleep. But then there was warmth on the side of his jaw and he tilted his face toward it as it moved down to the side of his neck. The hand on his shoulder moved a bit and he felt his collar lightly move along his neck, then the warmth was there too.

Along his neck, to the divot of his throat and then over slightly onto his collar bone. He couldn't think what to do, how to reciprocate all this pleasure and he felt his throat work, then her hand was on his and his hand was on her side. He spread his fingers there, seeking as much contact as he could get. Her hand returned to his back, a slow side down his spine and her lips touched the underside of his chin.

Helpless and new, it was petrifying. He wanted, he _wanted_ so much, but he wasn't sure what it actually was and frustration began to creep from his belly toward his throat. He was supposed to _know_ things. He was supposed to be brilliant, so why was it when he had everything he wanted, he knew nothing? It was just another degrading and cruel thing; his existence dangled right in front of him and horribly out of his reach.

“It's alright to touch me,” her voice came, soft and simple and out of nowhere.

He let go of a breath he had been holding, bowing his head down. Her hands where rubbing then, gentle massaging circles.

“I don't want to mess this up, I can't mess this up,” he sounded so pathetic and squeezed his eyes shut.

“You can't mess this up, Alphonse,” she said to him and then she cupped the back of his head and pulled his face down to hers, “Not even if you try.” He felt her breath against his lips. He couldn't open his eyes, but he could open his mouth when she kissed him again. His palm was so warm, and it slid easily over the fabric of her shirt, the place between his thumb and forefinger came to rest against something on her chest... his eyes popped open.

She made a small, indeterminate sound and arched _toward_ him, and he wasn't sure what that meant, but somehow his hormones managed to wrestle control away from his cognitive thoughts and his hand moved up and over and rested right on top of what he'd just been touching. He was so astonished, so completely flabbergasted, he pulled back to confirm with his eyes what his sense of touch told him.

He was touching her breast. _Her BREAST!_ He just had his hand, right there on it... and she wasn't screaming, or slapping him or trying to roll out from under him. She was allowing him to touch... _her breast!_ It was funny, the few times Ed had gotten his hands anywhere near one of these he'd been flattened by the offended party.

Of course, Ed was gay; he probably wasn't doing it right.

She was smiling at him and she did that little back arch again, _pushing her breast into his hand_. She just pressed it there and made another little sound. He ran quickly to his mental filing cabinets and looked under both _breast_ and _female anatomy_. It was a very interesting mental dialogue concerning the mammary gland and its ability to produce milk when certain hormonal changes took place in a woman's body. He tossed it over his shoulder and dug to the very back of the cabinet looking for porn... of which he had none. He cursed his squeaky clean, lily-white, chicken livered younger self and tried to draw on his instincts of just being a _man_ and _horny_.

Of course, he use to _read_ what laughingly might be called _porn_ , but really it was just washed down purple prose and did him not one iota of good. All that time wasted on the damn Duke! Okay, he could do this, he was after all, an adult. Adults had sex. He was just getting a late start. It was high time he had sex and he definitely wanted to have it with Riza. She liked him, she was letting him touch her breast and that, in itself, was proof enough that he should have sex. After all, women only let men touch them in places that would normally get them brained when sex was in the offing.

Sex took place in a bed. It was a healthy and preconceived notion, but then again, he should know that nothing was an absolute. After all, his brother and the General has proved, by very active demonstration, that a kitchen table was perfectly acceptable, _(and it was a place he never wanted to eat again. Iit actually took some doing to get up the nerve to set a plate on it after that)_ and if that was true, then a couch would work nicely. When he leaned down to kiss her, _(to distract her from the fact that he had his hand on her breast, but then again how could he do that? She knew perfectly well where his hand was!)_ , she tilted her chin up as his lips descended. Instead, he kissed her throat, then the side of her neck. He worked his way slowly down into the 'V' of the neck of her blouse and stopped a moment to just inhale. There was that scent again, almost clover and spice, it was _Riza_ and he groaned into it softly. Beneath his palm her nipple hardened and he felt liquid and heat and was all at once lost.

It went in slow stages, a learning experience for both. For him, it was a whole new vista, things he'd thought about, dreamed about, made flesh and blood and taste and smell. For her it was the places he liked to be touched, the things that elicited the most delicious of sounds, the furrow of his brow, the regulation of his breathing. Buttons gave way to skin and his lips found and traced the line of her bra over the swell of her breast. He felt her fingers then, the pull of his belt against the back of his waist and then the loosening as it came free of its buckle. This was real, this was happening and the air had an aroma and miasma of... smoke. A charred smell, like something burning.

“What's that smell?” Riza asked, her voice a delicious tremor against the side of his neck.

“I don't know,” he said with a light pant, “It smells like something burning.”

“What could be burning?” she asked and peppered light kisses down the side of his neck. How she expected an answer while she did that was beyond him. When he was released, he pondered the possible combustibles around them. From the way he felt it might be the couch beneath them, but he tried to tick off the possibilities as she worked at the buttons of his trousers. It wasn't cold enough for the furnace, he had no candles burning... something cooking?

She came to the same realization at the same time.

“Chicken!” they cried in unison, both leaving the couch at the same time. They tangled briefly and almost went over, but managed to stay upright and run for the kitchen. The air in the kitchen was thick and smoke was billowing from around the door in the oven. Al grabbed his oven mitts and opened the oven door, receiving a face full of charred chicken aroma for his troubles. He shut off the knob and stood back waving his hand in front of his face.

“This always happens when I try to cook something,“ Riza said behind him, sounding almost fretful. He turned to look at her and was mesmerized. Her hair was down and splayed over her shoulders. Her shirt was unbuttoned almost to her navel and the bone color of her bra stood out against her skin. Her lips looked a bit swollen and overall she looked flushed. He actually felt the front of his trousers _move_.

“Chick... um chicken is done,” he croaked.

“Very well done,” Riza sighed, “I'm sorry Alphonse, you went to all this trouble and look what happened. I don't think I'm meant to cook.”

 _Sorry? What was she sorry for? She had nothing to be sorry about EVER. She let him lay on her, she let him touch her, she let him taste her. She was standing here in his kitchen close to half dressed and she was sorry?_

All he could think about was dragging her to the floor, but the kitchen floor was hardwood and he hadn't cleaned it recently...

“Never be sorry,” he said. It was a misnomer but he didn't care. “It's salvageable,” he stooped and pulled the pan out of the oven and sat it in the sink. “All we need is a little determination, things will work out fine.”

As it turned out, they worked out fine indeed. The coffee table served as their dinning table. Some of the potatoes weren't too bad and the chicken was dry, but if they dug deep enough with the fork, it was edible.

“See?” Al said, fishing her another piece from the breast bone, “It had a few trials, but it worked out fine in the end.”

She took the piece he offered on the end of his fork and took a bite, then leaned close and pressed the rest to his lips. He smiled and opened his mouth, taking it from her fingers. She finished off the morsel with a kiss.

“I never lost faith,” she told him when they parted, “And I never will.”

He could put his arms around her. He could pull her close; he could kiss her now when he wanted to. For something he thought never could be to be so right...

Ed always said there was no magic in the world, but he was wrong. Neither of them noticed when Sophia jumped up onto the table and helped herself to the rest of the chicken's sorry carcass.

 

**

 

He'd given up slamming doors when R.D. came into their lives. It was too many times the small terrier was on his heels and it could prove painful, so he shut it firmly instead of slamming it off it's hinges... which is what he wanted to do. He could breathe here, he could think. He could just stand here for a few moments and sort through all this turmoil and all this rage. It was his job to think things through; it was his job to put things in perspective. He reached up and ground the heels of his hands against his temples. It was his job to make sure Ed got everything he fucking wanted because everything had been taken away from him. It was his job to be there to protect him, even from himself. It was his fucking God given right to be Ed's goddamned lover!

He couldn't think here. In the bedroom, it was too close and he could almost smell him, that fucking prince and his fucking girl-smelling flowery cologne. He forced his hands down, took several deep breaths and headed for the bathroom. He reached up and ripped his collar open, stopped in front of the vanity and leaned his hands on the countertop. He pressed his fingertips against the counter, pressing harder and harder, bending his fingers, willing his fingers through it. If somehow he could just will these things inside him twisting his stomach and guts into knots, he could breathe again, he could figure this out. He raised his head slowly, looking at himself in the mirror. He didn't see his eye because he never did; he never looked at _himself_ when he looked at himself. Instead, he saw a half oval shape of black felt that obscured half of his face and the string that wrapped around his cheek. He didn't even look human; he was a void, only half there. He forced his hand up and slammed his palm against the mirror, covering that half of nothing and by doing so, he was forced to look at what little remained of the man.

“He said he _loved_ me, he told me to trust him, he said that nothing was going on!” It ended on a half shout and he lashed out, throwing his arm the length of the vanity, sweeping everything before it in uncontrollable fury. A bottle of tonic and cologne scattered before his wrath, the porcelain shaving mug and its brush bounced off the back tile and skittered to the edge, toppling toward the tile floor. He made a halted motion to save it, then he just watched. It struck on its handle and it snapped off easily, flying in a different direction. It was heavy porcelain and the main cup didn't break, but a large chip shattered at the lip and skittered behind the toilet. The brush rolled away, coming to rest in a crevice of tile and grout.

It was broken. It was all broken and shattered. He felt blind and he felt sick and he grabbed at his temples again, fingers threading into his hair there and pulling. What was he supposed to do? What if it all fell apart? He gritted his teeth, squeezing his eye shut. His knees felt beyond his control and he stumbled back a step, then turned quickly and sat on the toilet seat, struggling for air. It was so thick in there and so close.

 _  
I thought I had found, for all my life, I thought this was what I was waiting for. What do I do NOW?_

It was unlike himself; he had no answers.

 _What good is any of it? I thought I could make it right, make it safe, make it the way it was supposed to be. I thought he would understand!_

I knew him, but I didn't.

 _He's supposed to love me! He was the only one, I thought... but that doesn't matter now, does it? He's a liar! He can't be a liar; he wasn't supposed to be the liar! Why doesn't he know this? Doesn't he know what he is to me?_

Maybe you've shown him, but he's as blind as you.

 _He came to me! He came to my home, he pushed his way in! I tried to tell him, he said he was willing! But he was a boy, he wasn't a man, he only thought he was! Did you know that? Did you see inside of him what he would become and did you want to use that?_

Maybe it's been me all along.

His eye was stinging. He shoved his hand over it and leaned, his forehead came in light contact with the edge of the vanity. The edge hurt, but he stayed there, letting it support him because he no longer lacked the will to support himself.

 _What did you expect?_

He wanted to claw at his ears, but if he did that, he would have to show his face, his miserable ruin of a face. He had been fifteen; how could he show is face to _anyone_? They would look at him and they would know. He was a scavenger, praying upon the pain and confusion of children. In his hunger he consumed innocence, but Edward was never innocent, not really. A child with eyes that jaded couldn't possibly be innocent.

 _Because you never gave him a chance to be._

The half cry startled him in the quiet of the bathroom. He bit down hard on his lower lip to keep it in.

 _I am the bastard, there is no excuse. I can't say I had to be, that I needed to do what had to be done. I can't deny that I hungered for power and looked for any avenue to gain it, and in you walked, all spit and fire and determination. How could anyone resist? But still, it's no excuse. I wanted you; I took you and made you mine. I kept you at my side, I kept everyone else away. I wanted to own you..._

But it didn't quite work out that way.

 _What is it? What is it that you see there when you look at him that you don't see in me? What can I do, what can I say? I have no pride!_

He slid back with a jerk and his back connected with the wall on the opposite side of the toilet, he straightened up, turning his hidden face to the ceiling.

 _Please, make it stop, make that the final kindness. I can take everything else, if only you'll make it stop and when you go, take all that you are with you. I'm nothing without motivation, Riza tried to tell me. I took your life from you; I took your choices and your innocence, but it's equivalent exchange, because I gave you mine in return._

He dropped his hands into his lap, his head still resting against the tile, his eye still trained on the ceiling. He was called fire, but really he was just an ember waiting for the air to breathe him to life. He'd had it and lost it and found it again; he really was a lucky bastard, but never in the ways that really mattered. He knew why it was hard to breathe in this small place; because what had made it bearable was slowly ebbing away.

“Blow me out,” he informed those who were listening, those where were watching his fall, “Before you go, it's the only descent thing to do.”

His place in hell was assured.

****  
 _  
I didn't do anything wrong!_

The closing of the bedroom door jarred him into action. He pushed off the wall and stood panting in the hallway, clenching and unclenching his fist, wondering at this strange reaction. Why did he feet so unwelcome in a place he came to know as his home? He started up the hall and stopped, turned back toward the living room, but there were no answers there. Where was he supposed to go? Roy was in the bedroom, what was he supposed to do?

 _I did nothing wrong!_

He had every right to go anywhere he liked in his home, he wasn't a stranger here! He lived here; he and Roy and R.D. He turned back up the hall, then back to the living room; he literally turned circles looking for a way out of somewhere he never wanted to leave.

 _You smell like him._

He found his hands on his neck, rubbing. He brushed at his shirt and his sleeves. He whirled and strode up the hall, marched straight to the bedroom door and reached for the knob. The tale tell click of claws on hardwood told him R.D. had decided to follow him, but the little terrier stopped a bit away and tilted his head.

“I'm going in there,” he told the dog, “He can't stop me. I live here, too.”

There was noise from inside the room, muffled by the door and sounding far away. It sounded like something breaking and he jerked his hand back before it touched the knob. R.D. danced back a bit in alarm; he must have heard the noise as well and he wagged his stub of a tail once in uncertainty when Ed looked at him.

 _I wasn't really kissing him! He kissed me and it was... I told him that I loved you... no, I said you loved me._

He cupped his hands over his nose and breathed deeply. All he could smell was salt and oil and sweat.

 _I wouldn't have done anything, I swear! I didn't ask him to like me, I didn't know why he liked me the way he did. It didn't make any sense; I'm loud and obnoxious, rude and tactless. People don't like me!_

Only he did, better than he should have.

 _I didn't know that other people would like me that way, it's only been you. No one but you!_

He scrubbed his hands up and down his face, then jump and held his breath. He thought he heard a noise from the bedroom again, but if he had, it didn't sound again.

 _Open the door, shout at me, hit me; I don't care. I live here too, you can't just shut me out like this..._

He should go in there; he could say he thought he heard a scream or that he heard something break. Those were good reasons, but he didn't need reasons because he _lived_ here and this was his home. He felt a brief surprise at the feeling of fear blossoming in his chest.

 _He wouldn't make me leave. He couldn't, this is my home._

Who was he trying to convince?

He listened hard, almost but not quite pressing his ear to the door, but there was nothing now. He hated the sounds coming from that room, the room where he should be but wasn't, but he wanted to hear them again so he'd have his excuse.

When they didn't come, he retreated down to the room at the end of the hall. This was Al's room, no matter where life took his brother now; this would always be his room.

 _Save me._

Shameless; utterly and completely without shame. Don't get him involved in this, don't mess up what he's got; let him have his good. You can take it, you can take it, you've lived through worse.

 _When I thought I'd never come home and never see him again..._

And now here it is again, with only himself to blame.

 _We didn't do anything! He never touched me like you, he never felt like you. I don't even know why he liked me._

The room was dark, only illuminated by the light from the end of the hall and he moved into it, half heartedly pushing at the door to close it. He stood beside the bed and he sat on the edge. It was strange to be so empty and blank. He put his elbows on his knees and lowered his face into his hands.

 _I didn't mean to let him kiss me the way he did, I just didn't know what to do. He liked me and it was exciting. I wanted to ask you about it, but I was afraid and then I was alone. If you love me so fucking much, why am I the last person you think of anymore? You just know I'll be here waiting? Is that loving someone, taking them for granted like that? I'm sorry! He paid attention to me and the only person who ever paid attention to me like that was you._

He was sure his automail joints where leaving impressions on his cheek, so he dropped his hands and just leaned back until he was prone on his brother’s bed.

He'd done it again, his own special brand of 'fuck-up-your-life' alchemy. It came so easily to him it's a wonder he practiced the other type at all. He stared toward the ceiling, not really being able to focus on it in the darkness.

 _If he tells you to get out, will you go? Or will you be that pathetic puppet you think he's made you into?_

He knew the answer to that, his brows dipped down in the center and he pressed his lips together tightly.

 _I don't want to go, I'm sorry! I wanted to tell you, but you started shouting and I couldn't help it, I really didn't do anything!_

He brought his hands up to his face again, laying his fingers over his eyes, resting his palms on his cheeks.

 _So you’ll go back to that? Listen to yourself... 'I'm sorry!' Just like a fucking blubbering twelve year old. That's all I've ever been to you, someone to garner apologies from. I'm always doing things to apologize for; I'll just jot this one down on the list. 'Ed screws up the only good thing he's ever had for himself.' That fits nicely with all my other inadequacies. Fuck, fuck, FUCK. What do I do, Al? What do I do?_

He waited in the dark for Al to give him the answers, but Al was busy elsewhere and he was left to his own devices.

 _What is it that I've done? Why are you leaving me behind? I'm not who I used to be, I can't stand still and run in place while you go out to rule the world. I don't want to rule, I don't to follow; I just want to live here with you. We have a chance, don't you see? Wasn't that enough pain and terror for a lifetime? Why do you want more?_

He turned onto his side, pulling his knees up toward his stomach, the warm and cool of his hands resting over his face. He heard the slight creak of the door hinges; he must not have shut it all the way. There was a click-click across the floor and then a slight indention on the bed behind him. One circle, two... then the little dog curled up, his side coming to rest against Ed's lower back.

 _We love you! Why isn't that enough for you? Me and Al, we made you our family because you didn't have any. Why wasn't that enough for me? You gave me reasons to be who I am; good reasons. You gave me thirteen little boys who have shown me that people do like me. Why couldn't I be content with that?_

R.D. gave a sigh and a snuffle. For a moment there was the briefest touch of a cold, wet nose he could feel through his shirt, then it was gone.

 _You love me; I said that to his face but I never told him I loved you. Without you, why am I here? What's left for me? I didn't say it because I didn't think I had to, it didn't matter if it was spoken aloud because I knew and that was enough. He liked me and I wanted him to, I wanted the attention because you never look only at me. I'm never the only thing on your mind. Who told you to rule the world? Who said that's what you had to do?_

He curled up tighter, wanting nothing more than to feel nothing, but he'd never been good at that.

 _I just want what everyone else has, my home and my family. Why is that such a selfish wish for me? Why is that always taken away? I didn't attempt alchemy to have love this time. I was happy to take what I could get, but something is wrong with me because I'm never content._

He opened his eyes behind his fingers.

 _And neither are you. We have to learn to be content with what we have and I have to practice what I preach. I think I'm such a good teacher, but in the end I'm a very lousy student._

 _Don't make me go._

 _I love you._

****

He wasn't aware he'd gotten up and moved until he was once again standing in the bedroom proper. He reached up to finish pulling off his shirt and let it drop to the floor, not bothering to toss it near the hamper. He was so tired and he just didn't want to think anymore. There was nothing more to think about, nothing left to drag himself over the coals for. He was what he was and apparently it wasn't enough. He turned and sat down on the bed, took off his boots and just sat like that for a while, looking at the pattern on the throw rug beside the bed.

 _I've never had a selfless thought in my life, have I? There's always been some ulterior motive, hasn't there? Everything I thought I knew, thought I believed in... that was nothing._

When he had lived his life alone, holding everyone around him at arms length, these questions were easy to ignore.

 _Even as you move ahead, you leave me better in your wake. I should have known I wouldn't be able to hold your attention forever._

What was there to pride when there was nothing to be proud over? He didn't want to rule the country for such a paltry thing, but it was interesting how the same emotion could have two such distinct meanings. Pride was nothing without power and even in power, he wanted nothing to do with pride. But just let someone mention to him how outstanding the young alchemy professor was, let them say he's a gifted edition to the academy staff. He had enough pride then to move mountains and he didn't deserve it.

 _He is responsible for his own accomplishments. Even if the position was of my making, I had nothing to do with it. He took it out of my hands long ago, made it much more than it would have been otherwise. He's brilliant, he doesn't need my help._

 _And he doesn't need my company._

 _And he doesn't need my love, because he can find that on his own._

 _He doesn't need me._

 _What do you expect? I don't know, because in my eagerness to be something you could be proud of, I lost sight of the reason I was doing it in the first place._

 _Here I am, trying to lay everything at your feet again._

 _Save me._

 _Don't go._

 _I love you._

****

Why was taking responsibility for Al's life so much easier than taking responsibility for his own? Now Al has handed him back his obligation, he is the only one who has truly left his past behind for the promise of his future.

 _Teach me, please. Show me how to do it, I don't think I can. For every step I take forward, it feels like there is a current pushing me back. It's so close I can taste it, but I can't get my hands on it. Push it toward me._

A pathetic, selfish child, wanting everything handed to him. Why? Because you worked so hard to get it all back? Doesn't that make you any more deserving of a handout than anyone else? You forgot who put you into that position in the first place.

 _There are no excuses._

If I hold on with the automail, it will never get tired and I can hold on forever.

 _If he created my life, then I let him. If he was the only thing I've known, it's because that's how I wanted it to be. If he is the master of my fate, I can think of crueler ones. I didn't do such a good job at handling my own fate, did I?_

 _He is my family, as much as Al._

 _He is my lover._

 _I don't need anyone else._

 _I don't want anyone else._

 _I have to tell you._

He uncurled, pushed himself up with his hands. R.D. jumped up and watched him slide off the bed.

“Wish me luck,” he said with a small smile at the little dog, “I'm going to need it.”

R.D. cocked his head and wagged his tail and Edward took that as a true sign of a dog's good wishes. He opened the door and slipped into the hallway, it was mere steps to stand outside the door to the rest of his life. He curled his fingers, raised his hand to knock, but stopped before he did.

What he had to say, he wasn't going to ask permission to say it; that's not how he worked.

 _I don't have to lose myself to be with him. He accepts me as I am... he always has. You'd think someone trying to run my life would try to teach me better manners._

He grabbed the knob with his automail hand and twisted, he could break the lock if he had to, but it wasn't locked and he pushed it open. The door swung back on its hinges and stuck the wall behind it loudly. They both jumped and stared at each other, Ed in his rumpled shirt and trousers, Roy in his bare chest and military issue pants.

All that needed to be said hovered between them. A mere few yards of words lie between what life was now and what it was going to be. He'd traveled so many places before; he'd traveled to find that thing that would make everything right again. He'd done it all before, he could do it all again.

“I don't want him!” it burst out of him. If he tried to do this rationally, if he tried to be in control of what was pushing and shoving to be heard, he wouldn't be able to tell him what he needed to hear.

“I love you, I don't want anyone else, I was telling him that. I was letting him down easy because he is my friend and I wanted to keep him as my friend. I let him kiss me; it wasn't the first time, but I never let him touch me. That is only for you. He never touched my body, he never touched my soul, he only touched my lips. I never let him in, there is already something in here,” he slapped his automail hand on his chest, “It's been there for a long time, I'm not giving it up! You can't make me give it up, no matter what you say. I love you, I fucking love you. That is enough for me; I'm going to learn to take my own advice. I came all this way and I'll be damned if I'm going back. You don't have to believe me; you don't have to trust me. I did stupid things, but you should be used to that. I'm not asking you to excuse me, I'm just asking you to think about it. Maybe trust me again? You can tell me what you need to; I'll listen to anything you have to say, but while you are saying it, I'll still love you,” he trailed off then, suddenly feeling conspicuous there in the doorway, begging for his life in a wrinkled shirt.

He waited for what seemed like forever and then the General stood and walked toward him. He wasn't going to run this time; he was going to hold his ground. He felt his muscles lock and his eyes widen as the General's hands cupped his cheeks, slid back into his hair, then dropped to his shoulders. The General's arms went around his back and pressed his chest to his own. Ed’s chin was tilted up, resting on the General's shoulder. He wasn't sure if putting his arms around him was what he should do, but he wanted to, so he did it anyway.

There were no words because after a few moments, none were needed. The words were all done now. He felt the General's chest hitch against his, he felt the press of the General's finger tips as he rubbed his hands slowly up and down Ed's back. He felt the scrap of fabric as his untucked shirt rode up and down his flesh. After a while, a few words came and he closed his eyes.

“I'm so sorry,” Roy whispered just behind his ear, “Did I make you feel like that? Did I make you feel like you needed to look for something else?”

“Maybe, but I shouldn't have. I think I was afraid. Sometimes you are so hard to talk to. I know you are only trying to make the world right,” he said whisper quiet himself, “I know better than to be selfish, at least I should know better.”

He knew, _he knew!_ Roy let go of a sound that made Ed's arms tighten around him.

“What? What did I say?” Ed's voice rose a bit. He went up on his tiptoes and hooked his chin harder over Roy's shoulder. “What are we doing? What are we going to do? You can't bring me this far and abandon me now, I won't let you. I need you, you need me. We're just stuck like this, we can't help it.”

Ed made an almost squeak when Roy buried his face in the side of his neck. His fingers worked worried circles next to Roy's spine.

“Why aren't you saying anything?” Ed pleaded, “You always have something to say. You never let me just say what I want... I mean you _do_ , but you always have something to say back.”

Roy shook his head, face still hidden. He couldn't speak because it wouldn't be intelligible anyway. Ed was wound up enough without adding anything to it. He was always thrived in strife; his guilt machine was well oiled and fine tuned. He always waited eagerly for the next order of business to feed into the fire in its belly, Roy would not be fuel.

“Roy,” Ed appealed, “Just say something; I need to hear you say something.”

 _I will give you anything._

“I'm so glad you fucking love me,” he managed, mumbled against Ed's shoulder.

“You still believe me?” Ed's voice dipped low, “Even after that, you believe me?”

 _I have to, because if I don't, I'll come apart._

“You know I do, I really do,” Ed's voice gained volume again, “I'm not as good at saying it like you are, I don't know how to make it sound sincere like you do. I fail at being romantic; I'm not stupid enough to think I don't, but I mean it, even if I can't say it like you need to hear it. You need to give me some slack about it, you know what I mean,” his voice was dropping again into that embarrassed mumble he had mastered so well.

Roy nodded into his shoulder. Ed smelled like oil and sweat; he smelled good. He began to back up, tugging Ed with him. He reached out and snagged the door, checked the doorway for a wayward terrier, then he shut it. Ed allowed himself to be turned and backed to the bed. He allowed himself to be pushed over and when the General crawled up beside him and pulled him close like a living rag-doll, he made no objections. In fact, he clutched back on his own and tangled his brown covered legs with blue ones.

Ed watched the General look at him as they lay facing one another, almost nose to nose.

“If you tell me to stop, I will,” the General said, “I am your creature and I lost sight of that. I didn't mean to, I took you for granted. You are the one thing in my life that should never be taken from granted. Not when you were taken from me so easily and you came back. How did I lose sight of that? I shouldn't be asking you, I should know the answers myself,” the General reached up and wound his fingers into Ed's bangs, rubbing them between his fingers.

“No, it's okay, you can ask me,” Ed said, “I want you to ask me, I want to help and I want to know what's going on in your fat head. We're both dick-heads, but if we can at least understand each other, then we can warn the other one when they are doing the dick-head thing... or not,” Ed bit his lip.

The General laughed and when he did, everything, all of it, just flew away. It was just Roy and it was just Ed and they were at home, lying around on the bed.

 _He was at home, with his lover who was also part of his family._

“I agree, we are both dick-heads, so what are we going to do about it?” the General asked.

“I don't know, I don’t think it's something we can really change,” Ed said, “But at least we know it.”

There was a little bit of silence then, but at least it was companionable. Roy's hand moved along his side and his forehead came to rest against his own.

“Thank you,” Ed said suddenly, “I mean, for letting me be who I am, even if it's not what you might want me to be. Besides Al, you're the only one I give a damn about accepting me. Gah, I hate feeling embarrassed about saying shit like this to you, I shouldn't be because we're lovers and we're family. At least I can say this shit to you, I'm glad you didn't make me leave.”

The General jerked and Ed was once against pulled to his chest. Whenever he tried the mushy stuff, Roy always got like this. It was embarrassing and it was the most fucking wonderful thing ever.

“Time to come clean, since you are really putting me to shame here,” Roy said, his voice a little funny, “I was terrified you were going to come in here and tell me you were leaving. I didn't know what I would do, I really didn't. I can't think of my life without you in it,” the General's hug was tight and good. He was saying mushy stuff and it was okay, it was better than okay.

“I thought you'd want me to leave,” Ed said. It felt so good to just talk about it, if they could just get it out and over with and be done.

Roy just shook his head. Ed could feel the movement of it buy his chin brushing back and forth across the top of his skull.

“No, you're stuck with me,” Roy said, his voice still slightly off, “If you had left I think I would have come and gotten you. I think we would have had to flee the country because I'm sure roasting a Xingian to death is some kind of crime.”

Ed felt a wicked little thrill all up his spine and down his chest and it settled in his crotch. It was a guilty sort of joy and he smiled because the General couldn't see him. He was _jealous_! He was jealous and that was great. Really, that was just the best thing Roy could have said... ever.

“You like that don't you,” Roy's voice no longer sounded funny, “You're grinning like a loon, I can tell. All I have to do to make you happy is mention murdering someone who has no fucking business touching you in the first place?”

Damn it, why did he always _know_ what was running through Ed's brain. How did he fucking do that? All those times he claimed he couldn't read minds? He was a fucking liar. Ed couldn't reward such blatant lying.

“No,” he said drawing it out, “I really wish you wouldn't kill the Prince and make us both fugitives. I like this house, it has big closets.”

“Again with the closets,” the General sighed, “So, what are you going to do about him?”

Ed went still; this must be some sort of test. Well, maybe he deserved it and maybe his answer is something they both needed to hear.

“I won't see him anymore if you don't want me to,” he said, and it hurt because, damn it all he did like the scheming fucker, “I told him we could just be friends and I told him if he didn't want that I would never see him again. I really told him that, Roy.”

“I know you did,” the General murmured, “It's a hard call, Ed. I don't want you to see him and that's my honest answer, but this is give and take you know. If you don't want me to run for Prime Minister, you can tell me that, too.”

“I don't, but when I say that I feel so fucking selfish,” Ed said quietly.

“Then we feel the same,” Roy said, “We have to figure out what we can live with and what we need to live without. If you want to continue to see the Prince, I really can't say anything about it. All I can do is trust you to do what is right, but you seem to be good at that. If you told him you could only be friends, then that is good enough for me.”

“If being Prime Minister is important to you, then ditto. Only, could you do it less? You're never around anymore... I got lonely,” Ed confided, “Gah, how is it you make me say all this stupid stuff?” He leaned forward to briefly hide his face against the General's chest.

The General gripped him by his hair and pulled his head back with a gentle tug.

“I am sorry, you know, you and your brother at the most important things in my life. I'm going to tell myself that every day so nothing like this ever happens again. Do you forgive me?”

“Do you forgive me?”

They both took the kiss as a yes.

After that, clothes were shed, blankets were pulled back and pillows were squashed. The need to touch and be close was almost overwhelming.

“Spring break is coming up,” the General murmured against his Ed's jaw. He peppered kisses there as well.

“Yeah,” Ed said, “Three whole weeks of lying on the couch in my underwear, I'm looking forward to it.” He sighed and tilted his head back to encourage kissing on his throat. The General was never slow on the uptake of these hints.

“Let's go somewhere, just you and me. Maybe a lake and a cabin, what do you think? We'll go away and clear our heads and come back ready to face the world again.”

“What about all your meetings?” Ed asked.

“Screw those,” the General said, “I owe you, remember? Let me make up to you Ed, tell me what you want to do. I'll do it.” Ed's throat worked under his lips.

“Okay then, just you and me. Not even R.D., you think Havoc would watch him?”

“Better to ask Fuery, who actually knows something about dogs.”

“Right.”

“Where am I taking you?”

“Surprise me.”

“I think I can do that.”

“Am I going to have to take a suit?”

“Why is that your first priority when we go somewhere? What's wrong with a suit? You look damn good in a suit, it makes me want to grope the fuck out of you in a dark corner.”

“....really?”

“No, I'm just saying that. Yes, especially when your hair is down. You're sexy Ed, suck it up. I have a hard time with you at functions because I keep wanting to put my hands and mouth all over you.”

The little pleased sound that came from Ed's throat worked all kinds of chemistry in Roy's stomach. He pressed along Ed's side, drew lazy circles on Ed's stomach with his fingers.

“You know, you ruined me. I bet there are a lot of women out there who hate your guts.”

“I don't care,” the grin was almost blinding, “But listen to that, damn, think much of yourself?”

“I never went without a date,” Roy returned smugly, “Or without Havoc's dates. I had them lined up at my office door, you saw it.”

“Whoop de shit,” Ed snorted.

“Jealous?” the General cooed.

“I don't think so! Unlike dick-headed, bastard, slacking Colonels, I had a job to do! The only reason you had time to even look at women is because you foisted everything off onto us,” Ed pushed at the fingers on his stomach; they were getting a little ticklish. He pushed them lower to get them off the sensitive area.

“You were so jealous,” the General said, tilted his head down and caught Ed's earlobe between his lips.

“Was not, stoppit,” Ed grumbled without any conviction, “And even if I was, so what? You're jealous of His Royal Moochery, so we're even,” the note ended smugly.

“Ah, touché,” the General said, the tip of his tongue traveling the rim of Ed's ear.

Ed was smiling to himself and the General noticed when he left the ear to kiss his temple. This whole painful mess, it has given Ed something. He cupped his cheek and turned those smiling lips his way.

“Shit works out, huh?” Ed said, meeting his eyes, “When we first got home I thought the world was ending, but now it's like... almost, it's starting over.”

Roy smiled himself; he stroked the pad of his thumb over Ed's cheek.

“Hello, my name is Roy Mustang. I'm a General in the army with a stable job and possible high political position. I'm in love with you, will you stay around and keep me sane and grounded and let me make your life good?”

Ed swallowed and licked his lips. He shifted, his cheeks going pink and his eyes darting away.

“May... maybe. My name is Edward Elric. I'm a Professor of Alchemy at the military academy. I've seen you around and uh... I'm in love with you, too. We're both dick-heads, so we should get that right out in the open so there are no surprises. Do you think I could live here and make this my home and you my family along with my brother? That's what I really want; I think you'd be good at it.”

Roy pulled Ed over onto his side facing him again, tucked him up against his chest and Ed pressed himself there, wanting the contact as much as Roy wanted to give it.

“Yes,” they said simultaneously.

 _Starting over._


	20. Chapter 20

Roy Mustang, General by trade, Casanova by reputation, stood with his hands on his hips and surveyed his temporary domain. It was quite scenic and tranquil, a lush and tree draped vista, with a view of a sparkling lake just in the distance. He took a deep breath and counted himself healthier for it, he turned to grin at his companion, his paramour, his lover, _(of whom he intended to take full advantage these scant two weeks away from the world)_ and cocked an eyebrow.

The gesture said: 'Well, haven't I outdone myself? It's this all I said it would be and more? Aren't you pleased that I would bring you to such a dazzling and overwhelming place of peace and harmony?'

“When are we going to see the inside of this cabin?” the focus of his affections said. “You just going to stand out here on the porch all day? I'm starving, I hope that rinky dink tavern we saw out on the main road serves dinner.”

Roy's eyebrow took a quick side trip back to it's original position and his mouth flattened out.

“Ed,” he complained. “Look at the view! Just look at it! You can see clear down to the lake from here. Look at the trees, all the... wilderness around. Ah! Look, is that a squirrel?”

Ed stared at him blankly for a moment.

“Gee, I don't know. You're the expert since you were so sure we had them in the attic at home last fall. You were really intrepid to go up there with a flash light and I'm sure I only heard you scream like a girl once.”

“You know, there's no need for you to be so pissy because I wouldn't let you drive the convertible roadster. It is _rented_ you know, and all you've ever done is drive into a house.”

Ed almost bared his teeth, but he caught himself at the last moment. They stood for a moment, eyebrows twitching and Ed conceded. After all, this was a vacation, something that they'd never done together. He shouldn't be trying to pick a fight, at least not on the first night.

So, to oblige he took a deep breath and turned to look at the lake. Ok, so it was pretty, but he wasn't going to go spouting that off, because that would make Roy smug again. Not that smug was a bad thing with Roy, per se, it made sex really good at times.

“It's great, isn't it?” there was no smugness in the tone, or arch of eyebrow when the General looked his way.

 _Defeated again._

“Yeah,” Ed said with a casual shrug of his shoulders. “It's really nice.”

The General's smile was warm and pleased and Ed got a little feeling in his stomach that wasn't so bad.

“Let's see inside the cabin,” Roy said, fishing the keys out of his pocket. “It's suppose to be the nicest on the property.”

Ed was all for that, he went back and grabbed the suitcases from the end of the porch and came over, almost eagerly pressing against Roy's back as Roy worked the lock.

The cabin opened into the main room, it's was large and airy with a high ceiling. To one end stood a rustic, stone fireplace, at the other was a bed. Ed let the suitcases drop and cocked his head at it a little. It was a funny sort of bed, almost round and mounded so high with pillows that you almost couldn't see the mattress at all. The rest of the main room was almost as plush, large cushions were in overstuffed chairs. A rug that looked like it once belong to some mythical bear from the Isle of Overly Fluffy Angora Animals, was stretched between them in front of the fireplace.

Ed turned toward the General slowly and started to open his mouth, but his eyes fell on another room decoration that he found he wasn't opposed to at all. A large fruit basket was sitting on one of the tables by the bed. That made up, in Ed's opinion, for the ridiculous lavishness of a cabin, in the woods on a lake for pete's sake. He stepped around Roy and headed over, sat down on the side of the bed and caused a small pillow-lanche that threatened to bury him.

“Hey, there's a card on this basket,” Edward plucked out the small envelope. “Who would send us fruit? I thought you said you didn't tell anyone but Al where were were going because Al could stand up to torture.”

“I didn't,” Roy said, picking up the suitcases and heading for a doorway off the main room. “I think it just came complimentary, with the cabin.”

Ed read the card, he flipped it over, then back and read it again. He held it up as if he were looking for some secret code in the very paper itself. He sniffed it, he looked slowly around the room, and then he looked at Roy.

Roy raised his eyebrow.

“It says,” Ed growled slowly, “congratulations newlyweds.”

“Well, fancy that,” the General said and turned away quickly, yanked the doorway open, shoving the suitcases in.

“I'm outta here,” Ed leaped to his feet, throwing the little card to the floor. “I don't know what you think you're trying to pull but I ain't having no part of it! Newlyweds!” Ed snorted. “Do I look like a blushing bride to you?!”

“I wanted you to have the best,” Roy cried, spreading his arms. “This was the best cabin on the lake! It has it's own bathroom!” Roy waved his hands toward another door. “All the other ones share public showers and toilets! I wanted this to be special, it's not my fault there is this honeymoon stigma to it! Besides, Ed, I would think that by now, common law...”

Ed's jaw flapped open.

“We aren't married!” he shrieked. “I never said yes and you never proposed!”

“But you have thought about it,” Roy suddenly purred.

Ed went scarlet and backpedaled, the back of his knees struck the bed and he sat again.

The General swung the closet door shut and sauntered across the room. Edward backed up onto the bed and looked anywhere but at the General's face.

“Shall I get on my knees?” the deep, silken voice asked.

“No!” Ed cried and immediately covered his face with his hands. “Look, forget I said anything. You don't got to do nothing!” He squirmed all around, trying to get off the other side of the bed.

Roy caught him easily, hopping up on the bed and crawling over him, straddling his body and looking down at his finger covered face. He could make out the faint blushing between the cracks in Ed's flesh fingers.

“But I want to do it, I want to ask you,” Roy leaned over. His lover was no longer a boy, despite this charming display. “Will you answer me, if I do?”

“Geddoffa me, leave me alone,” Edward huffed, muffled and wiggled. His hip came into contact with the inside of Roy's thigh and he went still. “Why are you doing this to me? You know I hate this mushy shit.”

“Why am I doing what to you?” Roy leaned down and kissed knuckles both flesh and metallic.

“Stoppit,” Ed whined and turned his head to the side, face still covered. Roy reaches and tugged at Edward's flesh wrist until Edward gave in and let him pull it away. Ed turned one eye in his direction, frowning and blushing. Roy leaned over and kissed his cheek and the corner of his lips. From there his lips traveled lower, over a jaw and down the side of Ed's neck. Ed's face was uncovered now, both of his hands rested lightly on Roy's shoulders and he was pursing his lips slightly and then sucking them in and doing it again. Ed had some of the most unintentional endearing habits and Roy didn't dare _mention them_ , because Ed would then make the concerted effort to stop.

Ed arched then, brought his hips up and Roy half moaned. They weren't even unpacked yet, they'd just arrived perhaps twenty minutes prior, and already he wanted to fuck Ed through this ridiculous heart-shaped bed. Damn, lake air must be really good for you.

Ed gave a small, involuntary sound and risked at glance at his face. Roy smiled for him and settled himself down, lying between Ed's legs and along his body. He propped some of his weight on his elbows.

“Hey,” the General said softly.

“Hey,” Ed said in return.

“Would you?” the General said with a soft, teasing grin.

Ed groaned and squeezed his eyes shut and scowled in appropriate Ed fashion.

“You know I would,” he mumbled and tried to sink into the bed beneath him.

Roy pushed himself up, his fingers went to the waistband of Ed's pants.

“What are you doing?” Ed grumbled. “I just got engaged and you already think you own me, I'm starving. At least take me to dinner first.”

“Oh that's right,” the General snorted. “I forgot you were one of those girl-next-door wholesome types who wouldn't let me so much as get to first base without a ring.”

Then the General yelped as the Professor neatly threw him off and he rolled off the side of the bed and thumped on the floor.

**

The rinky dink tavern out on the main road did, in fact, serve dinner. As long as you liked meat. Fried, mostly. Or charbroiled into bits of black soot. The very large and rugged looking gentleman in the cooks window didn't seem to take to any other suggestion lightly. Roy appealed to Ed with his eyes.

“Why don't we drive back to the town that was an hour down the road?” he said.

“Why? This is fine, and it's right here.”

Roy squinted at the tattered and grease stained paper menu again. He scanned it fruitlessly, _(and that was literal as well as figurative)_.

“There doesn't seem to be much of a selection, this is our hon...,” he caught himself at Ed's glare, “our vacation,” he corrected. “You should let me treat you.”

“You are treating me, to this big steak,” Ed said, pointing. “It comes with a potato, that's fancy enough for me. No rabbit food to get in the way.”

Rabbits made no noises that Roy could imitate, so he returned to his glum perusal of the menu. A woman, _(at least Roy thought it was a woman, for it's sake he hoped it was a woman)_ came to linger briefly at the table side and gave them both a slight glare for making her, _(or it)_ , do her, _(or it's)_ , job.

“Steak,” Ed said. “As bloody as he wants me to have it, and the potato since it comes with it. Beer?”

She snorted and nodded and turned her small, slightly watering and slightly swine-ish eyes on Roy.

Trapped. He looked at Ed again, but Ed was set on feeding him to this woman's several sets of jowls. He dropped his eyes to the menu again, searching frantically.

“You boys ain't from around here,” she said suddenly, her delayed epiphany catching up to her. “You staying in the woods at that cabin place? It's fancy and 'spensive. That must mean you want the good stuff. Hey Turk!” she yelled toward the cook's window. “We got big spenders.”

A tiny ray of hope flashed in Roy's head.

“Good stuff? Do you have actual vegetables?” he said, putting on his most charming smile.

“Nah,” she grunted and then grinned. “But we got the high dollar beer like them places in Rockmont,” she nodded sagely. “Locals don't drink it much, but we keep it on hand for the city boys what come to play in the woods.” She grinned, and Roy tried not to stare into the tiny gaps of her missing teeth.

“I'm from Risembool,” Ed said, loftily. “I'm not from the city, he is,” and he looked at Roy, condemning him in a glance. “He's from Central.”

What few pairs of eyes were in the dark and dank little clap trap tavern, turned in Roy and Ed's general direction.

“I..I am,” Roy admitted, feeling this was some sort of crime. “But I can enjoy the countryside and lake, just like anyone else.”

There seemed to be several diversive snorts at this proclamation.

“I got folks out Risembool way,” the woman said. “But over in Doncaster.”

“I know where that is,” Ed said brightly. “I've been through it a few times.”

The two of them chatted for a moment about corn and sheep or corn in sheep, it didn't matter. Roy tried to be inconspicuous and to figure out if he could actually eat anything off the menu or he would be losing a lot of weight over the next two weeks.

“Are you going to eat, or what?”

Roy realized that the woman was actually talking to him now, so in panic he said: “I'll have what Ed is having”, just to escape her scrutiny and she took that for what it was worth and shambled away from the table.

Ed watched her go, turned back to Roy.

“Well, at least the locals seems ok enough. I wonder what the big dollar beer is?”

“Whatever it is, I'm not going to pay some hopped up out of towner price for it, you better believe that. I can't believe they don't even have salads. Do they think potatoes are the only vegetable?”

“You know, you eat steak just fine at home. It comes with steamed broccoli and carrots, but everyone knows that's just there to make the meat look better. No wait, you do actually eat that shit, don't you?”

“Vegetables are good for you,” Roy said in a patient parental tone. “You should eat them more often, Edward...ow! If you have to kick me under table use the right foot, dammit,” he bent over to rub his shin and glared at Ed over the table. Ed didn't look the least bit remorseful.

“Beer,” a voice said out of no where and two large glass mugs with handles slammed down on the table between them. Ed took his eagerly and Roy scrutinized his.

“Trade with me,” he said.

“Huh? Why?” Ed said, stopping mid-way between mug and mouth.

“This mug is dirty,” Roy said and pushed it with his fingertips in Ed's direction, “and you aren't usually picky about this sort of thing.”

Ed just stared at him silently for a moment. Then he slammed his mug down and picked up the one Roy was being so fastidious about.

“It must be fucking love or lunacy, I haven't figured out which,” Ed sneered and took a drink.

**

“That was not a steak, it was a wedge of tar in disguise,” the General groaned, sprawled on his back in the middle of the bed. “And here I didn't pack any bromo... I'm going to die.”

“Don't be so melodramatic,” Ed snorted. “It was a little tough but it was fine, next time we'll try the pork.”

“Next time?” the General whined. “I won't survive until the next time. My innards are already blocked. I'm just going to expand. You'll be cruel of course, tease me about getting fat. But I'll fix you, you'll be sorry when I'm gone.”

“I'm already sorry and you're still here,” Edward snorted and started peeling out of his clothes.

Roy let his next retort die on his lips, and instead watched Edward undress. There was some kind of symphony playing in the background, Roy was sure of it, because for every layer Edward peeled off, Roy could hear the choir. It was like manna to watch him bare himself, and knowing that if he could just get up and move with this tar weighing his body down, he could put his hands on that rapidly appearing skin. He licked his lips and Edward caught him doing it and stopped, pants halfway undone.

  
At first Ed looked like he didn't know what to do. If he should be offended or pleased and it made for some interesting contortions on his face.

“What are you looking at?” he finally mumbled and worked on his pants, albeit a little more slowly.

“My lover,” the General crooned. “He's glorious when he's baring himself for my pleasure.”

“What? The fuck I am! You're a pervert, a slimy pervert,” Ed growled.

“Not anymore my love, you're legal now,” the General sighed.

Ed half turned his back and pushed his pants down, Roy was always very amused that Edward was still a bit prudish after all this time.

“Besides, you're too injured by steak to get it up, remember?” Ed said over his shoulder.

“I think I'd have to be dead not to get it up at the sight of you,” the voice said behind him.

Ed swallowed a little and slowly finished undressing. He wasn't sure why he did it, Roy was just goading him. He tried and failed to look over his shoulder, to see the smirk and the sparkle in a black eye. He clenched his fists.

“The line of your back is classical,” the voice murmured again. “Let your hair down, let me see how long it's gotten.”

Ed had no clue why he obeyed this disembodied voice giving him the most personal of directions. But he freed his ponytail and felt his hair fall against his bare back and waited.

“It's a little longer I believe, almost to your mid-back. It's still very rich in color, I would have thought it would start to fade more toward white blond by now. Either way it's mesmerizing.”

Ed felt a little trickle of sweat run down the back of his neck. He shifted a bit from foot to foot, what the fuck was he waiting for? More directions?

“It took a while to get here, didn't it? All those hours in that car? I bet you need a really good stretch.”

Ed flared his nostrils, like hell he was going to... and then he did feel a bit cramped, in his lower back and shoulders. This was some kind of verbal subliminal manipulation, Ed could tell. Roy must have mastered it years ago, yes, back in his Lt. Colonel days. So that was the reason everyone followed him around with puppy like devotion. Well, everyone but _him_ , he puppied for no man! He just... laid on his back and spread his legs.

Roy sucked in a small breath. Ed tensed, he could see the play of his muscles all the way from his shoulders to his butt cheeks. Roy felt a bit light headed when Ed flexed _those_. Ed balled his fists and raised his arms slowly over his head, arched his back and groaned. Roy rolled up onto his side and pushed into a half sitting position on his hip. Ed slowly lowered his arms to his sides, holding them straight out and turned to his left, then to his right. He let his arms hang in front of him then and rolled his head once before straighting back up.

“Was that good?” the General purred.

Yeah, it was good, it was really good. He was starting to feel relaxed and warm despite his nakedness.

“You haven't had a proper work out lately, have you?” the General asked.

Well, no. Not since the Prince and the sparring matches. And he'd been avoiding the Prince for obvious reasons. And the last weeks of school had been hectic, making sure all his boys were ready for the exams. Sweating over their individual performances for the dean and other school board heads. Hoping there would be an alchemy class next year.

He hadn't had time.

“I haven't,” Ed admitted lowly. “But not because I'm lazy or nothing, and I'm not really out shape...” he rushed.

“I know,” the General placated behind him. “Believe me, I know. You're magnificent Ed, but I know how you are. You're a bundle of energy, and when you keep it all inside you're just heading for some sort of explosion.”

“Maybe,” Ed said and rolled his head on his shoulders again an stood up a little straighter. Roy smiled, Ed took to praise like a fish to water. It was nice to watch him preen.

“I know you studied with a martial arts expert as a boy, Mrs. Curtis? Was there a regiment she taught you? Some series of movements?”

Ed nodded and bowed his head. He didn't move for several moments. And when he did, he _flowed_. He turned his head and took a step to the side and Roy could see his eyes were closed. His arms came up, one hand up, the other fisted and he stretched his other leg back, but seemed perfectly centered. Roy almost forgot to breathe.

The next three movements were all similar in style, a rounded, artistic flair of motion that came to a stopping point just when Roy thought Ed would over balance or break his concentration. Each movement highlighted Edward's body in dramatic repose. Sinew and muscle, each pause and held movement seemed like time held it's breath.

His lover turned as he began to repeat the movements back to his original spot. His eyes were closed and his face serene. Roy heard loud breathing in his ear, and he knew it wasn't Ed's. He felt hot and a bit uncomfortable in his clothing. Once again there had been a power shift. It always amazed Roy how easily and how well he and Edward shared this precarious perch of domination between them.

Edward reached his original spot, came to a halt, then took a deep breath and bowed. When he straightened back up he slowly opened his eyes. But only halfway, he looked relaxed and lazy.

Roy wet his lips and nodded.

“Beautiful,” he said.

Ed absorbed this compliment, his eyes slide shut again and he tilted his head back, just a bit.

“Now what do you want me to do?” Ed whispered, on the cusp of husky.

 _Own me... no wait, you already do that._

“Perhaps you'd like to come over here and help me take my clothes off?” the General suggested casually.

Ed dropped his head back down and opened his eyes.

“I think I can do that,” he said.

And then he came. He was only a couple of strides away, but he filled them with his body and his heat and his sex. Roy felt his chest heave once. Ed was usually a rather demure creature in the bedroom, Roy felt that this was true. Ed was content to let Roy lead him, but on occasion, on those rare occasions when Ed felt his own power, things could be different.

He didn't say anything, instead he bent forward slightly and Roy felt fingers work the button at his throat. He was sure Ed felt it move. Ed worked with silent diligence, unbuttoning Roy's shirt all the way down then gripping it and pulling it out of his slacks and finishing the job. He pushed it open and off Roy's shoulders. Then he caught Roy's hand and lifted it, worked the button loose on the cuff and tugged the sleeve down on that side, then half turned, repeated it with the other. Roy kept looking at Ed's face, watching the concentration and the schooled expression. Ed knew he held the upper hand. Roy lifted his arms when directed and his dress shirt sailed over Ed's shoulder to the floor, followed quickly by his undershirt.

Ed lifted his hands slowly and Roy felt them on his cheeks. Roy felt his lips part to Ed's unspoken request and he leaned up. As they came together Ed opened his mouth, covering Roy's. It was Ed's tongue that sought and gained entrance and it was Roy who shut his eyes first. Ed's fingertips worked small circles on his cheeks and Ed's tongue stroked the roof of his mouth before dipping to nudge his own. Each breath Roy took drank Edward in, each exhale Edward swallowed greedily.

Edward's fingertips moved, skating over his jaw, down the sides of his neck and to his shoulders. Roy wasn't even aware he was being pushed back until he felt the comforter under his spine. Ed braced himself with his hands to either side of Roy's chest and pulled up slowly out of the kiss, tugging the General's bottom lip briefly with his teeth as he did so. Edward's always impressive bangs spilled forward to frame his face as they regarded each other.

“Don't move,” Edward whispered, pushed upright and looked around. He went to hastily retrieve one of the suitcases, dragging it out and unlatching it. He grunted in frustration as he pawed through it, Roy imagined he would just dump it out, because Edward lost all patience when aroused. But he came back, tossing the bottle on the bed next to Roy. He reached down then to undo Roy's belt.

Roy lifted his knees, pressed them to Edward's hips and rearranged himself a bit. Ed deftly opened the buckle on the General's belt and pulled it slowly from the belt loops around his waist. The buckle made a loud clank when it hit the floor.

“You know, I'm usually never without something to say,” Roy said and Ed looked up at him just as his fingers gripped and pulled up on Roy's slacks to undo the button. “But what do you say to the sexiest man in the world when he's standing between your legs undoing your pants?”

Ed's cheeks colored up and he dropped his eyes again, there was a tiny pleased smile on his face.

“And what does it say about me that he's doing it naked?” the General added, because, God help him, he never could resist a tease.

Ed snorted and yanked and the button of Roy's slacks sailed in a graceful arch and bounced once on the comforter before clattering to the floor.

“Please don't break the zipper, I've only just learned to sew buttons back on,” the General pleaded.

Ed smiled overly sweetly and gripped Roy's slacks hard at the top and closed his automail finger over the zipper tab.

“At least be careful of my hair!” Roy yelped.

Ed zipped with much enthusiasm and Roy heard fabric shred and then he was suddenly naked. He decided it best not to question it. Ed put his hands on his hips and let his eyes wander up and down Roy's frame.

“I'm not sure you're up to snuff for the sexiest man in the world,” he drawled. “You look a bit flabby and under defined. You're also an amazing shade of fish belly white.”

Roy's mouth pulled down on the sides.

“That's really cruel, here I've done nothing but drool over you for the past half hour and you think I'm flabby.” Roy leaned up on his elbows and looked down his body. He feared the middle-aged spread with a vengeance, and having Ed around was good incentive not to sit on his couch and eat chips and swill beer most nights. True, he wasn't as active as his younger lover, but he did ok. There were lots of steps at the office, he went up and down them, at a jog, several times a day. He wasn't fat.

Ed looked like he was on the verge of snickering.

“Don't...don't pout,” he got out before bursting into giggles he tried to smother with his automail hand.

Roy flopped back again, scowled at the ceiling and Ed managed to get himself under control.

“Aw, come on, I'm sorry,” Ed said, climbing back up on the bed and straddling Roy's body. “I didn't mean it, come on, look at me.”

Roy kept his head turned to the side, he tried to fold his arms but Ed wouldn't let him.

“Come on, you can say shit to me and I don't pout... ok, I don't pout usually, come on.” Ed wheedled.

“I did nothing but tell you how drop dead gorgeous you are and how much I wanted you from the minute I realized you were taking off your clothes,” the General huffed.

“I know, “ Ed crooned. “I didn't mean it, it's just you offer me a compliment with one hand and then smear it in my face with the other. I'm the one who should be upset,” Ed leaned down and kissed his cheek, his ear, the side of his neck. Ed's hair danced over his chest and Roy wavered.

“You're right, that was rude of me,” Roy murmured and Ed's lips found his adam's apple. “But if you can forget the second part, I mean what I say,” he raised his hands and rubbed Edward's sides, slid them down to his hips to knead.

“Yeah, that's better. We had some hot shit going on there for a few minutes,” Ed growled, “let's get that back. I love it when you make me feel like that.”

Roy slid his hands to Ed's spine, he pressed in on either side and dragged his fingers up and Ed threw his head back and groaned, curling downwards, his hips coming to rest against Roy's.

“Everything I could ever want in this world is hanging above me,” Roy told him. “I am only a breath away from my heaven, even though he doesn't believe in it.” He pushed his fingers back down Ed's spine and Ed's head hung forward, his back arching up now.

“Yeah,” Ed said, “talk to me like that. I fuckin' love that, but you didn't hear it from me.”

“Didn't hear what?” Roy replied smoothly, then he pushed up on his elbows again and he extended his tongue. Ed shuddered and gasped when it slid over his nipple then tossed his head back and bit his lower lip when Roy's lips closed over it. Edward jerked and twitched above him as he suckled slowly, nudging the now hard nub back and forth with his tongue.

Roy pulled his mouth away long enough to whisper: “Do you like that, beautiful?” before taking him in again. Edward twisted above him, but careful not to pull away from Roy's attentions, his hips pressed and ground down and he whimpered his pleasure.

Roy's hands traveled up and down his back, smoothed over his butt cheeks and squeezed lightly. He could feel the head of Roy's cock touching him on his lower stomach and the feel of his own cock, hard and tight; pressed into the crevice where Roy's leg joined his thigh. But Roy's mouth commanded him, drew all those delicious lines of lust together in one spot, under Roy's lips.

When Roy released him, Ed almost sagged. His cock helpfully supplied the knowledge that it was rubbing lightly against warm skin, and it really liked it, could it have more please in a 'harder-faster' way?

It must have telepathically sent this message to Roy's hand, for no sooner than it had finished speaking, there Roy's hand was to comfort it. The rest of Ed's body really liked the Roy's hand/Ed's cock couple and thrust forward eagerly to get them together. This caused Ed's internal fixings to also want to take part, and he gave a happy little yelp before he could get them under control. But the bastard didn't smirk at him, only rubbed him lightly up and down in a terribly, awfully, wonderfully, unsatisfying way.

Roy's eyes were now half mast and he was almost purring. Ed trembled on outstretched arms above him making the most delicious expressions. It felt incredible, to be here in this place in the middle of nowhere, where no one knew them and to have Ed naked and quivering at his touch. He cooed to his whimpering lover, watched Ed thrust and start to sweat lightly, listened to his ragged breaths.

Roy reached up, quickly located the bottle Ed had tossed on the bed earlier. He released Ed and Ed kept thrusting, rubbing the head of his cock on Roy's stomach and Roy snapped the bottle open and wet his fingers with lubricant. With his unanointed hand he grabbed Ed's arm and pulled him forward, made him crawl up Roy's body. He pulled Ed down and Ed came willingly, his hips still rocking and Roy slide his fingers into the cleft of Ed's ass and quickly located his anus, rubbing it back and forth vigorously. Ed half way howled and dropped his forehead to Roy's shoulder, trying to spread his legs wider in invitation.

“You want this,” Roy husked into his ear, then pressed the first finger in, steady pressure to the base. Ed needed little preparation these days, but Roy went through the motions because he enjoyed it. He loved the feel of Ed's muscles around his fingers, the minute jerks of Ed's hips when he was penetrated, all these little things he missed when he just plunged in, cock first.

The second finger followed the first with almost no pause and Ed thrust hard into his stomach, groaning and Roy reveled in every grimace and every spasm around his fingers.

“You love this,” he whispered against Ed's ear. “You beg for this,” he licked his ear then and Ed sobbed his denial and admission all at once. He moved his fingers, in and out, back and forth and never in the way Ed begged for with his soft cries and hip thrusts. The key was to keep Ed hungry, starving. Just on the edge of his lust and desperate. That was where Ed was most lovely.

Ed tried to reach between their bodies and grab his own cock, but Roy caught his hand.

“No, that's mine. Do you really think I'm going to let you jerk yourself raw when I'd rather you be screaming and riding my cock?” he trilled. “You don't get to come until I say you can,” and he punctuated it with a hard thrust of his fingers and Ed writhed. “You understand me?”

Ed resisted him, grit his teeth and tried to jerk his wrist free of Roy's grip. But Roy hung on tightly and dropped his voice.

“Look at me,” he ordered and when Ed refused he growled and thrust hard with his fingers again. “I said look at me!”

Ed turned his head slowly, he was sweating and his bangs clung to his cheeks and his hair spilling over his shoulders stuck there. He opened his eyes to glare, but a stroke over a very sensitive spot made them pop wide and he trembled.

“Put your mouth over mine and kiss me,” Roy said, the order softer now. “Come on, kiss me.” He felt a surge of pure lust when after a moment, Ed leaned down to obey.

 _Intoxication, drunk of this man above him._

Ed shook and cried softly into his mouth, pulled up to beg with words since all his yearning wasn't working.

“Roy... I need... “ he sobbed.

“I know what you need, do you think I wouldn't give it to you? But you have to show me you want it, you have to tell me, Ed.”

His own chest was heaving, his own cock was so hot and tight he almost thought it might split. His bravo was fading and he held out as long as he could, eyes focused on Ed's flushed and swollen lips.

“You total bastard,” his lover cooed. “You know I want you to fuck me, why do you make me do this, I don't know,” he sobbed.

Roy pushed Ed up then and Ed's eyes grew wide and wounded. And Roy realized it must feel like some sort of rejection to be shoved away after such an admission, he rushed to mend it before the rift grew.

“Sit up, beautiful, here, lift your hips,” and he grabbed Ed there, pushing upwards and Ed pushed on his knees looking baffled and anxious.

“You get to be on top,” Roy purred, “you like being on top.” He reached between them, the side of his hand brushing along the bottom of Ed's dripping erection and Ed whined and started to push back down.

“Not yet,” Roy scolded mildly and Ed froze and waited.

Roy grasped his own cock and hissed aloud and Ed's eyes slid closed and he moaned at the sound. He lined himself up as best he could and gave Ed's hip a little push.

“Slowly,” he said and Ed began to sink. “That's it, like that...” The head of Roy's cock nudged and pushed into the cleft of Ed's ass and they both paused to shudder at the sensation. Then Roy coaxed again and Ed continued down. The head of Roy's cock locked into the depression there, poised against Ed's anus and Roy released himself and Ed's hip and he waited.

Ed hovered there, breathing in and out deeply, he tilted his head back and shook his hair and Roy groaned at the sight. Ed dropped his chin to his chest and pressed down, just enough to get the head of Roy's cock inside, and he made the most beautiful of grimaces and waited to adjust.

He slowly began to descend, just a bit at a time and Roy thought he would die and die happy by the end of it. When Ed finally settled his ass on Roy's thighs, Roy had already been to heaven and back several times. He reached up, rubbed Ed's hips and immediately took possession of Ed's cock, slick with pre-cum and hot in his palm. Ed jerked forward when Roy touched him and then his eyes widened and he pushed back. Roy forced stillness on his body, no matter its wailed protests. He wanted to move, to thrust and push himself impossibly deep inside Ed's body, into that tight, hot place that was clenched around his cock. Ed rocked his hips, once, twice, experimentally and then pushed up a bit on his knees and sank back down. He made a sound that flayed Roy's very flesh from his bones and pushed himself up again, then rocked forward into Roy's palm and back and down. Slow, agonizing torture that Roy would beg for, scream for, commit any crime for. He was awash in Ed's desire and lust, watching almost detached as the young man who owned his soul arched his gorgeous body and sought his attentions.

Roy brought his other hand into play, cupping Ed's balls, lifting them when Ed pushed up on his knees, as if to somehow urge him along, pressing them when Ed sank back down. Ed gritted his teeth, unsure what to do with his hands. One of them gripped the wrist of the hand Roy had around his cock, the other flattened on Roy's chest.

It wasn't long before Ed upped the ante and he began to move faster, picking up his up and down motion, tugging on Roy's wrist.

“Rub me, bastard, don't just hold it, fuck!” Sweat dripped from Ed's chin onto Roy's chest and Roy made a low sound in his throat, a gurgle-like welling of pleasure. Roy gave him two quick and strong strokes and Ed panted hard and moved harder, the sound of flesh slapping flesh mingled with their breathing. Roy waited and when Ed opened his mouth to beg, he did it again, just two, long and firm, and Ed whipped his head to the side and ground down as hard as he could before pushing back up.

There was no ecstasy like this to be had on his earth. No other person who could entice such raw desire from him. Roy bared his teeth and struggled to maintain himself, teetering here on the edge. Because the sight of his lover working himself to a lather in lust was something he wanted burned into his very retinas. But it wasn't to last, Ed sobbed to him, one last desperate plea and Roy couldn't help but answer. He gave Ed what he wanted, began to build him on long satisfying strokes of his turgid cock, raised his hips to meet Ed's descents. It all became a battle, a race, a conquering neither wanted to win, and when Ed thrust his head back and shouted his completion to the skies, Roy followed soon after and sang his praises to the man he loved and could never live without.

**

The next morning brought Roy a sight he hadn't seen in a long time. The Professor dressed like Ed. A black tank top, as much as Roy thought he wouldn't miss that steadfast piece of a younger Edward's wardrobe, he did. And shorts, when Edward went on vacation, he took it seriously. They had to be hold overs from his younger days. They were long, hit just above his knee and were a little faded and a little frayed at the hems.

Ed had his own thoughts on Roy's vacation wardrobe.

“You're not wearing that down to the lake, are you?” the younger man said with a slight sneer.

Roy paused and looked down at himself. He seemed in order. Linen trousers, short sleeved, button down print shirt, _(not quite floral, sort of ferny)_ and sandals.

“Yes,” Roy said slowly, “is there a problem?”

“Well, yes,” Ed sputtered and waved his hands at Roy's attire. “We're at the lake, not on the back deck of one of your snooty General buddies!”

“This is what I brought to wear,” the General said and restrained himself from putting his nose in the air. “There is nothing wrong with it.”

“Weren't you planning on getting wet?” Ed asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, should I be?” Roy asked, his own eyebrow raising a bit.

“Tell me something, just _why_ did you want to come to the lake?” Ed said, hands going on hips and hunching his shoulders a little.

“Relaxation mainly,” the General said, putting his hands on his hips. “I was thinking I might spend some quality time with my lover and take in the scenery.”

“You weren't planning on swimming or fishing?” Ed said.

Roy worked his jaw and glanced around the room before settling his sight back on Ed.

“You weren't, were you?” Ed said, exasperated. “What did you think we'd be doing? Hanging around in the cabin fucking all day? Wait, don't answer that.”

“For your information, I was going to see about renting a boat, I saw a sign on the road as we came in. Also, I think it's high time you learn to drive,” Roy threw that in as a peace offering, to waylay any righteous tirade Ed might be formulating to hurl at his head.

“Teach me to drive?” Ed sounded a little breathless and then he suddenly lit up all over. It wasn't a tiny glow, but an angelic shining that sprang to life in his golden hair, ignited his eyes and traveled down his entire frame.

There would be no getting out of it now.

“Yes,” Roy said, as if he'd been planning it all along. “Why do you think I rented the roadster? I'm not going to teach you to drive in that box we take back and forth to work everyday.”

The roadster was insured and not their everyday means of transportation after all.

Ed was looking at him in a most peculiar way.

“That is... if you want to learn to drive,” Roy ventured, uncertain.

“I just have this overwhelming need to have sex with you,” Ed said in an airy way. “I don't know why, but I think we should have sex before we go down to the lake... a lot of it.”

Roy immediately began to strip.

“Is there anything else I can offer to teach you?” the General asked a bit breathless as the Professor's shorts and tank top hit the floor.

“No, I think the driving thing is going to get you more sex than your tongue can handle at the moment,” Ed reassured him.

“Oh good,” Roy said as he was backed to the bed and let himself fall back onto it. “Because I think my tongue can handle a lot.”

“Hope it's been working out,” Ed growled and covered the General's mouth with his own.

 

**

 

It was nearly dusk the first time they set foot on the dock at the end of the path that lead to the lake from the cabin; and they almost didn't make it that far. Ed was still flushed and he wrestled the hem of his tank top out of Roy's grasp and pushed the shoulder of it back up.

“We had to get out so the maid could make up the bed and change the sheets,” the General purred, hooking his chin over Ed's shoulder. “We can go back in a few minutes, she'll be gone.”

“I hope you tipped her really well,” Ed muttered, looking out at the lake. “Otherwise we better not show our faces up at that tavern on the main road again.”

“I'm sure she's the soul of discretion,” the General said, lips adoring Ed's ear lobe. “She didn't see that much.”

“You mean that much of you,” Ed growled. “Why is there a hook in the ceiling of that cabin and why did you bring a coil of rope in one of your suitcases?”

“Well, it _is_ a honeymoon suite, after all,” the General purred.

There were a few more minutes of Roy pawing and Ed squirming before the lake in front of them caught and held their attention. In the late afternoon sun it was a serene shimmer of blue with flashes of light all the way across to the opposite shore. A light breeze rippled the water around the dock and lifted the ends of Ed's messy ponytail. Roy lifted his chin and wrapped his arms around the younger man, and pulled him back to lean on his chest.

Neither seemed willing to speak and break the sudden bubble of calm that surrounded them. So instead, Ed lifted his hand and rubbed Roy's arm around him and Roy nosed the top of Ed's head.

There was a splash somewhere off to their left and Roy turned quickly to look in that direction.

“What do you think that was?” he asked when Ed turned to look as well.

“Just a fish,” Ed said, tilting his head back to look up at Roy.

“Oh, right,” the General said with a nod. “I guess there are fish here.”

“Yeah,” Ed said slowly, “what, with it being a lake and all.”

“Don't get smart,” the General huffed. “Not all of us are hicks like you.”

“You know, you think that bothers me, but it doesn't,” Ed said airily. “It means that I grew up knowing how to do things on my own and not having someone wait on me hand and foot. That means everything I have I earned and it wasn't handed to me.”

“I didn't have anything handed to me,” Roy snorted. “I worked hard in school and the academy to get where I am.”

“Did you do your own laundry?” Ed asked.

“No,” Roy answered.

“Uh huh,” Ed nodded. “Did you cook your own meals?”

“No,” Roy answered, “But neither did you, Mrs. Rockbell did it.”

“Touché, touché,” Ed agreed. “Did you have to walk to school, five miles, up hill both ways?”

Roy gave him a wry look and flattened his mouth out.

“In the snow?” Ed continued.

“Did you just age thirty years while we've been standing here?” the General asked.

“Pansy assed city-boy,” Ed teased.

Roy gave him a shove, right on the shoulder. It was meant playfully, but Ed teetered to the side, did a sudden flailing of his arms and toppled off the end of the dock into the water.

“Whoopsie,” the General said, peering over the end, this wasn't the intent, but Ed should be able to take what he dished out. The water here must be over Ed's head, not a hard feat that, being as Ed was so... diminutive. But when a blond head didn't bob back up to the surface almost immediately, the General got to thinking. Ed should be a good swimmer, having grown up in the country around a bunch of ponds, _(filled with weeds, that's why this lake water didn't phase him. Roy always swam in a pool, where you could see the bottom and any sort of thing that might be lurking there to brush against your leg underwater, like Maes.)_ but then again, Ed hadn't been half steel at the time.

Roy dropped to his knees and plunged his arm into the lake and began to feel around, he'd jump in if he had to, he really would! After a few moments of desperate groping he began to psyche himself up when he heard a slogging sound beside the dock. As he watched the blond head he'd been hoping to grab came into view.

Ed emerged from the depths, one stride at a time and reminded Roy, vaguely, of a b-horror movie he'd seen once about a creature living at the bottom or a lake... or a lagoon, or something like that. When Ed reached the shore he lifted his automail arm straight up in the air. A cascade of lake water rushed out of it, over his face and down his neck. He then sat down on the gangway of the dock, leaned back and lifted his automail leg. Similarly, water rushed out of that appendage as well.

“I'm sorry,” Roy said. “I didn't mean to push you in and then I forgot that about the fact you probably can't swim very well being part steel... please don't push me in, these pants are linen, they'll never come clean.”

But Ed wasn't looking like he was seeking revenge, in fact, it was just the opposite.

“Wow, Mustang,” the Professor said quietly, “that's two for two on the same trip.”

“Beg pardon?” Roy said, still fearing for his linen trousers and eyeing the lake water nervously.

“You didn't remember I was half steel?” Ed said, with a funny little lilt to his voice he immediately cleared his throat trying to hide.

“No, I didn't even think about it,” Roy said with a shrug. “I thought you'd be a good swimmer, being a bumpkin and all...” he gave a hopeful little teasing grin.

“I think I want to have sex, right here, right now,” Ed muttered.

Roy did one of his little turns in confusion, wondering who this was and where Ed had gone. Finally he got out: “With me?”

“Yeah, with you,” Ed had already gone all sultry and Roy wondered if there was some better way to test if he was really awake other than pinching his arm. There didn't seem to be, so he did it and proved to himself that he was, indeed, awake and this wasn't some lust addled fantasy.

He watched as Ed climbed up onto the gangway and started toward him. It was a funny feeling, being caught flat-footed. Your lover actually giving into one of your most secret and depraved desires, sex in almost-public. Why, anyone one could happen by and see him shagging Ed's brains out on the dock. What would people think? Why would he care? Ed was gorgeous and he didn't get to brag much.

“Let me help you out of these things,” Ed purred, sidling right up to him, starting to unbutton his shirt. “You don't look good in this flower shirt anyways.”

“They're ferns,” Roy muttered dazedly.

“Whatever,” Ed said, pushing the shirt open and off Roy's shoulders and starting on his belt buckle. Roy watched him, licking his lips and already stretching the fabric of his briefs.

“I know,” Ed cooed, “let's skinny dip, we can do it in the lake.”

“Ok,” Roy said agreeably, eagerly, and he started plucking at Ed's wet clothes. “If that's what you want, beautiful, that's what you'll get. You know I'm the man that can give you what you need where you need it, I'm always willing to accommodate.”

“Roy, I'm horny, not feeling slutty, refrain from the porn novel talk, ok?” Ed said.

Now Ed was ruining the fantasy.

“Don't look at me like that,” Ed continued. “I found your stash under the bathroom sink inside the old bromo box.”

“And read it,” Roy supplied.

“Well yeah,” Ed countered, “it was porn after all.”

Roy gripped Ed's wet tank top and pulled it over his head, then reached back as Ed undid his zipper and removed the tie from Ed's hair. He toed out of his sandals and stepped out of his trousers when they hit the dock. Ed pushed his shorts down and kicked them aside. Last, but not least, Ed grabbed the waistband of Roy's long briefs and kneeled as he pulled them down Roy's legs. Roy's cock tapped him on the nose and Ed grinned.

“It's always so happy to see me,” he said.

“Of course,” the General purred. “It always has a good time at your place.”

Ed snorted and stood back up, they stood face to face, au natural on a dock, on a lake practically in the middle of nowhere.

Ed tried to climb Roy like a tree. He got his arms around his shoulders, his mouth locked over Roy's and threw his flesh leg up to hook over Roy's hip. Roy staggered backwards under the assault and managed to kiss back. Ed pulled back then and grinned at him, lowered his leg.

“Pants won't get wet now,” he smiled.

  
“What?” Roy asked, flushed and panting a bit.

Ed pushed him off the dock into the lake.

**

Roy had flailed himself into the shallows, stood panting and looking wounded and betrayed. That had changed to amazement and lust when Ed dropped off the side of the dock to join him there.

“Idiot,” his lover mumbled, molding to his side. “I'm still horny.”

There was no need to respond with words. Roy half turned and wrapped himself around the shorter man, this time he plundered with mouth and tongue and they rocked back and forth, holding each other in the water. Roy began to push Ed down, but when Ed sat in the lake, it came up to his chin. Shallower shallows were called for and they worked their way toward the shore between trying to tongue each others tonsils.

They sat again, but Ed jumped and squirmed around.

“There's a rock trying to get up my ass!” he complained, so they had to scoot around, _(but not to close to those funny weed things underwater, Roy shied immediately from those)_ , to find a good place where they could sit and no stray masonry found it's way into Ed's rump.

Roy straddled Ed's lap, cupping his cheeks and trying once again to suck Ed's tongue out and Ed, for his part made lots of encouraging noises. Ed tried to lift his right hand but struggled with it for a moment and when he lifted it the finger joints and palm of the automail were coated in mud.

“I think I'm sinking,” he said.

“Maybe you should have stayed on the rock,” Roy panted.

Ed shook his hand furiously which made him rather distracted in returning Roy's kisses.

“Just leave it,” Roy encouraged, “when it dries it will be easier to get off.”

“It feels weird,” Ed complained as Roy abandoned his mouth and headed for the side of his neck.

“How can if feel weird?” Roy murmured there, brushing his lips up and down the muscle that connected Ed's neck to his shoulder. “It's automail, you said it doesn't feel anything.”

“Yeah, well,” Ed said, “but that doesn't mean it doesn't feel _anything_.”

“That makes no sense,” Roy said, sliding his tongue over Ed's shoulder, “either it does or it doesn't, which is it?”

“It's hard to say, I mean you'd think it wouldn't, but then shit gets all jammed up in it and it does,” Ed grumbled.

This wasn't working out as planned at all, here Ed was being prissy about the hunk of steel hanging off his shoulder when he should already have his knees up to his shoulders and encouraging Roy to do it like he meant it. So to help that process along, Roy reached between them and helped himself to Ed's erection, wrapping his fingers around it snugly. This helped to shut Ed up about the automail at least. Roy gave a few hearty strokes to stoke the fire so to speak, and all seemed fine until Ed scowled.

“Ow,” he said.

“Ow?” Roy returned. This was a new take on encouraging sex noises, but Ed was nothing if not innovative.

“Yeah, ow, hold up,” Ed said, reaching to grab Roy's wrist.

“What's the problem?” Roy panted.

“We're in the water, I guess it's washing stuff away,” Ed mumbled, eyes darting to the side. “I mean, usually I'm all drippy and uh... you use that when you rub?”  
“Oooooh,” Roy said. Yes, that made sense, the lake water was robbing Ed of his pre-cum, which could be used as a handy lube substitute in the early stages of stroking Ed to the breaking point. This could be a problem.

“We didn't bring any lube with us,” Roy whined.

“No, it's ok,” Ed soothed, “I can make some.” And he clapped to demonstrate.

“You know the composition of lube?” Roy said, amazed again at his resourceful lover, would Ed's wonders never cease?

“It can't be too hard,” Ed reasoned. “It's just slick, clear stuff...like sap!” Ed pointed at a tree right on the shoreline. “I can get some from the roots there.” He wiggled out from under Roy and stood to slog through the water toward the tree. Roy would have protested, but the sight of Ed, naked and erect wading toward the shore was quite a sight.

Ed clapped his hands and put them on the bank, probably intending to bring some roots of the tree to the surface. The dirt of the bank broke as the roots supposedly surged upwards. The tree decided to protest this and began to tilt forward.

“Ed!” Roy called, alarmed, but Ed had also seen the predicament and lifted his hands from the ground quickly.

They stood and looked at each other for a moment.

“Ok, it's ok, I can find something else,” Ed said and moved up to the bank. He clapped his hands and put them into a patch of weeds growing there, after a moment he was heading back over to Roy with something cupped in his palms. Roy looked down at the offering in Ed's hands when Ed held it out to him.

“Here, take it,” Ed said almost bouncing in place. “It's weed sap or something, it should do.”

Roy cupped his own palms and Ed let the liquid pool from his hand into Roy's.

“If this is weed juice how do you know we won't have some kind of allergic reaction to this?” Roy questioned, but Ed was already sitting in the water again.

“It's fine! It's not a weed that would make you itch, I know what they look like, come on!”

Ed's wish was generally his command and he saw no reason to buck that now. He kneeled carefully so he didn't spill the liquid in his hands. Ed leaned back in the water, holding himself up on his elbows to keep his head out and lifted his knees. It was a beautiful invitation as far as Roy was concerned, but there was one drawback. Ed's inviting bits were still underwater.

“Now what?” Ed lamented.

“I'm going to put this handful of liquid in the water, what do you think? Get up on your knees and stick your goods into the open air,” Roy ordered.

“You're so pushy when you're horny,” Ed grinned and flipped over, getting up on his hands and knees. He gasped loudly when Roy's fingers parted him and put his home-made lube to work.

Whatever juice Ed had sucked out of a bunch of weeds seemed to be working. Roy's fingers eased inside just as smoothly as if they'd had the store bought stuff. Roy had always heard of breakfast being better when you were out in the wilds, but never lubricant, this had to be some kind of first.

Ed tried to go down on his elbows, but got a mouthful of lake water for his trouble and Roy wondered if it would be rude not to kiss him until after Ed had a chance to brush his teeth. Ed groaned and gripped the fingers Roy had inside him tightly and Roy decided to leave coherent thought behind.

**

It was like nothing he'd had before. Oh sure, he'd had Ed before, innumerable times. But never with the breeze through his hair, or the sun on his back or his lover's melodious cry echoing through the trees...

“OW, what the fuck?! Hold up!” Ed cried.

“Buh?” Roy got out, gripping Ed's hips tightly. He listened for further encouragement and was rewarded.

“DAMN, Roy, hold up!” Ed yelled, then surged forward, pulling himself off Roy's cock and out of Roy's grip.

Roy thrust a few more times into empty air, his fingers still crooked as if holding onto something. He seemed to be having some sort of interruption denial. Ed on the other hand was rubbing his butt and giving the General dirty looks over his shoulder. It took Roy a few moments to realize what had happened.

“What? What? What's happened?” he rushed out and made grabby motions with his crooked fingers. “What are you doing?” he asked with wide eyes.

“It hurt,” Ed complained. “It was starting to burn... did you use that stuff I gave you?”

“Yes,” Roy said breathlessly, “I used it, come back, come back now.”

“No,” Ed whined. “I think all the water splashing on us washed it away.” And to protect himself from Roy still sporadically thrusting hips, he turned around and sat down in the water.

Roy made a throaty sound that sounded almost like a squeaky door hinge, then hung his head.

“I'm sorry,” Ed sympathized, “maybe we should wait until we get back to the cabin.”

“Wait?” Roy said, head jerking up. “Wait?” He looked down at his erection, then back up at Ed. “Let's just move up onto the bank.”

“No,” Ed said, wrinkling his nose. “It's gravely and kind of sandy and I don't want sand in unmentionable places, forget it.”

“But you said you wanted to have sex,” Roy gurgled, “you said you wanted it right here and right now. You're a cock-tease, once a cock-tease, always a cock-tease!”

“It's not my fuckin' fault the lube is water-soluble!” Ed snorted. “I guess maybe I should have realized that seeing as how I made it's composition but I wasn't thinking straight because I was preoccupied with the thought of you riding me like your namesake!”

Roy's eyes almost crossed.

“Don't talk like that when you aren't letting me have any!” he howled. “That's not fair! Cock-tease!” And he pointed at Edward with a shaky finger.

Ed didn't dignify him with a response, instead he showed Roy his tongue.

“Ok fine, that will work!” Roy said with a flail. “Bring it on!”

“Gross fuck no!” Ed countered. “You just had that up my ass, no fuckin' way in hell am I putting my mouth on that, here you can do mine!” And Ed flopped back and threw his legs in the air.

“No,no,no, look I'm washing it off!” Roy grabbed himself and pushed his erection under the water and rubbed it back and forth furiously...he almost didn't stop. “You're the one who wanted sex, I'm the one who made you want it, you blow me!”

“No! You're the one who should be on me like the ripped, blond sex-god you always tell me I am, now get over here!” Ed said and pointed at his bobbing cock.

“Flip you for it!” Roy challenged. But a wade over to the dock to feel around in his pants revealed no change.

“Loser!” Ed taunted from the shallows, legs still up and knees bent.

“We were coming to the fucking lake, I didn't think I'd be paying admission to the Ed-is-a-cock-tease-show so I didn't bring any money!” Roy snarled back.

“You complete ass!” Ed growled and flipped over and began picking up rocks. “Let's just find a little flat rock and use that!”

Roy slogged over to help him look and to make sure Ed didn't find some miraculous double-headed rock he could cheat with. They both picked up rocks and threw the rejects off into the lake. And picked and threw and picked and threw.

After a bit they were sitting side by side in the shallows tossing rocks they pulled up with their toes deeper into the water.

“The maid should be gone by now,” Roy said, watching Ed examine a rock he'd manage to pry up with his automail toes.

“Probably,” Ed said distractedly, then dismissed the rock and gave it a toss further out.

“You could probably throw it further with the automail,” Roy said, pulling up his knees and resting his chin on them.

“Nah, not really,” Ed said. “I'm a lefty by necessity, and I've gotten good at it. When I try to throw with the automail I throw like a girl.”

“We can do it twice tonight for missing out on sex in the lake,” Roy offered. “We could use the rope again.”

Ed looked at him and snorted.

“What do you mean twice to make up? We did it twice before we came down here, I think it will be ok to skip this session. Did you just bring me out here to fuck me at every opportunity?”

“It's not like you're complaining,” Roy returned. “And you've been rather helpful with that agenda with all this initiation you've been taking. I wasn't aware there were limitations.”

“I wasn't aware there was a quota,” Ed said wryly.

“Yeah, there is, and we're behind schedule,” Roy said. “Come on, I'll feed you so you can keep your strength up.”  
“And to think, I gave up the military for this,” Ed said, getting to his feet.

**

“She said she liked my hair this way,” Al said, eyeing the chair. It was a fine chair, black leather, low backed with big buttons sewn into it. It had a shiny metal base it was sitting upon and a bar to comfortably accommodate your feet. It was designed to move up and down by a pedal and lever. As far as chairs went, it was quite fancy.

“Let me tell you a little something about women,” Lieutenant Pharr said, giving Al a pat on the back. Now that Al was not longer in the military, and no longer outranked First Lieutenant Clayton Pharr, a little back patting was allowed.

“They're going to tell you what they think you want to hear, even someone like the Colonel,” Pharr said, taking Al by the shoulders and turning him toward the mirror behind the chair.

“I don't think the Colonel would do that,” Al huffed a bit, looking at the man's reflection. “She's not like that. She's honest and straightforward in everything she does.”

“That's just infatuation talking. Listen, Riza Hawkeye is a woman, rank not withstanding. Moreover, she's the type of woman who has never really practiced the womanly virtues, if you know what I mean. She's never had to, at least not until now.” Pharr grinned at Al's confused expression in the mirror.

“Ok, she has been with men,” Pharr said, “but to what extent? She had a fling with General Mustang once, that's true, but it never went anywhere. She's had a date or two since then, but along came Alphonse Elric and everything changed.”

“What do you mean?” Al said plaintively.

“Well you didn't see it of course, you weren't there to see it, but tell me Al, since you've been back, how many dates has she been on that weren't with you?”

Al opened his mouth and his jaw hung there in space for a moment. He ran to his mental filing cabinet and looked under the largest of them all, entitled 'Colonel Hawkeye'. He looked in the 'Potential Rivals and People to Eliminate Folder'. It was rather small, practically non-existent. The last folder there had been for Macklin Tolbert, but that had been a misfiling. All in all the section was bare. His mouth snapped shut.

“Exactly,” Clayton said. “Now, see, this 'womanly virtues' thing I'm talking about. Colonel Hawkeye is not a willing participant. She missed out on all those meetings the girls have about how to keep your man happy. She's not here to care if she keeps a man happy or not, after all, she gets to boss them around, she doesn't have to worry about them being happy. Well she does, but not in the sense that she wants them to think about her in any other way but as their commanding officer. All that goes right out the window with you my friend,” Clayton clapped Al's shoulder again.

“With you it's a brand new strategy. The battlefield is set, but it's not a battle she's out to win. That confuses her, because she's career military, she didn't expect this love monkey wrench to be throw into her orderly life.”

Al blushed delightedly from nose to neck. “Love?” he said.

Clayton turned him back around and backed him into the chair. Al's knees hit the front of the seat and he sat, but not all the way back. He perched right on the edge and looked up at the First Lieutenant, his eyes still showing trepidation.

“Well, or a reasonably good approximation,” Clayton told him. “Now, since you are in a good position, and I'm not saying to exploit that, it's time to take the proverbial bull by the horns. You repeatedly moaned to me when I used to set you up on dates that all the women treated you like a kid. Well, you were a kid, but this,” and Clayton reached behind Al, snagged up his ponytail, then let the silky mass trail over Al's shoulder, “didn't help dispel that image.”

Al shifted a little uncomfortably. Clayton Pharr was a man he'd known for a number of years. He met him when Riza had first come to the East and picked him to be in her staff. He was intelligent, congenial, a good problem solver. He was also a bit of a womanizer, and Alphonse saw that early on. But for all his flaws, First Lieutenant Pharr had always been there for him. His nervousness began to dispel, it was easy to overlook a bit of chauvinism when it was coming from someone you knew had your bests interests at heart. And First Lieutenant Pharr had always had his back.

“Ok, you're right,” Al agreed, on a certain level anyway. “Let's cut this off.”

Pharr grinned and turned and waved.

“Hey Sam, my boy here is ready,” he said and stepped back, jamming his hands into this trouser pockets.

Al also couldn't shake the feeling Pharr was a little proud of him, that was a bit bewildering but warming. He wasn't used to having an adopted elder brother, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense, back when Ed was gone and all.

When the barber moved behind him and lifted his ponytail he tensed all over, but Clayton winked at him and he held himself still.

Soon his neck began to feel a draft.

**

Day four.

Roy purred as his back was scratched. It felt wonderful, almost like some bristly loofa half naked native girls scrubbed you with while you languished in the warm tropical currents in the crystal clear pool under the waterfall. At least, that was how his brain translated it in his dream. But when he finally opened his eyes he realized that it wasn't a half naked native girl, but a wholly naked unshaven lover's chin.

Ed had given up shaving the second day in. With the rate his facial hair was coming in, it was a wonder the hair on his head wasn't down to the back of his knees.

Ed had his automail arm draped over Roy's waist and was rubbing his stubbled chin in little circles across Roy's shoulders and muttering in his sleep. Roy couldn't really make out the mumbles, but smiled when the thought he heard his name mixed into them. He stretched and yawned and scratched and waited for Ed to wake up. Roy thought lazily of a nice breakfast and a refreshing drive through the countryside around the lake. Maybe they'd find a nice spot to stop and hike about and have sex outdoors, this time with proper store-bought lube he'd be sure to have in his pocket. Ed still needed to make up for the sex-in-the-lake fiasco and was woefully behind quota.

  
But Ed took time off seriously. Roy wasn't sure how long he lay there hoping for Ed to wake up on his own, and when he didn't Roy provided helpful prodding and small kicks to his shins, but still, Ed slept on. Roy even wiggled out of his grip and got off the bed, but this just caused Ed to grumble sleepily and attack Roy's vacated pillow before curling up, pillow between teeth and settling back down again.

“Bacon,” Roy crooned. “Sausage, pancakes... no, french toast,” Roy whispered in Ed's ear.

Ed made an inquisitive little sound and smacked his lips, but his eyes remained shut.

Roy studied Ed's beard stubbed jaw and chin. Despite the golden shade of the hair on Ed's head, the beard itself was rather brown. He had a good bit above his lip, down around the sides of his mouth and from his chin up both sides of his jaw. Many people said that a change in a lover's appearance could charge up a couple's sex life. Roy considered their sex life charged enough on it's own, thank you very much, _(because his reputation wasn't just rumor)_ , without the help of Ed's face being... fuzzy.

It was a bit disconcerting, and Roy found himself wondering just why he was taking such an active dislike to Ed with facial hair. He of course told himself that it wasn't the 'age' issue, of course it wasn't. Edward was now a man, in his early twenties and conducted himself as such. The General was very proud of the man that Edward Elric was becoming. He'd always been confident and strong, but in his chosen profession he was learning many valuable new things, like compromise.

Children had a tendency to be the best teachers. Especially to those who lost their own childhood.

Still, just because Edward was growing up; no, had _grown_ up, didn't mean he needed to look the part.

The General worked his jaw; maybe Edward was right; maybe he was a pedophile. He sat over onto his hip, looking down at the young man sucking on the corner of a pillow in a heart shaped bed in a honeymoon suite log cabin on an idyllic lake. If he was a pedophile, then why hadn't he looked at other boys? Why had it been all women up until Ed walked onto the scene? It stands to logic that if he was a pedophile, he should have been pedoing long before Edward came to throw chaos into his life. So why was it Edward and not some other fetching young man? There were several around; or maybe they were just too old for him. Roy felt a little twinge of alarm; was he a pedo all along and just didn't know it because there were no twelve-year-old army recruits at the time?

But wait, it wasn't the twelve-year-old Edward that made him shift uncomfortably in his desk chair, that had been the fifteen-year-old, should he feel better about that? After all, fifteen-year-olds where older than twelve-year-olds by a margin of three whole years, so that should be alright, shouldn't it?

Somewhere in the middle of this internal dissertation on his pedophilic tendencies Edward had opened his eyes. He lay with one eyebrow raised, studying his lover.

“Good morning! Let me take you out for breakfast, why don't you go shower and shave,” Roy said brightly, hopping off the bed.

Edward stretched and rolled over, dangled one leg off the side of the bed for a few moments and yawned.

“You know, I don't think you've had enough vacations to know how to act during one,” Ed said, eyeing Roy drowsily. “You're way to fucking cheerful for this early in the morning. It's almost like we're going to work.”

“Nothing wrong with being up early and ready to start the day,” Roy said, opening the closet and surveying it's contents. “I thought I might let you try driving today...”

He'd barely got the words out when Ed was up and off the bed and striding into the bathroom. Ed didn't waste much time in there, either. Roy had barely gotten dressed when Ed opened the door and a burst of steam heralded his entrance back into the main room. He too, came over to the closet and gave his wardrobe the eye. He hadn't shaved.

“Did you brush your teeth?” Roy asked casually.

Ed gave him a funny look as he reached in the closet for a shirt, then he suddenly flashed his teeth, baring them in a bit of a snarl.

“I see you washed your hair,” Roy commented, nudging a pair of nice slacks toward Ed's hand.

“I washed my ass, too,” Ed said, snatching a different pair of pants from the closet, “is there a point to this?”

Roy pointed vaguely at his own chin.

“I think you forgot to shave,” he pointed out helpfully.

“Oooh,” Ed said with a nod. “Right, I forgot and I'm not going to remember anytime soon,” and he went to get fresh linens and dress.

“I need your driving gloves,” Ed said once he was fully dressed. Roy tore his gaze away from Ed's prickly cheeks.

  
“Why?” Roy asked.

“You said you were going to teach me to drive, you're not backing out, are you?” Ed leaned forward a little, his brows making an evil 'v' shape and the corners of his mouth turning down. Coupled with his golden eyes he looked almost demonic, Roy could see why his academy nickname was 'Divine Retribution.'

“No, of course not,” Roy said, “I just don't know why you want my driving gloves.”

“For driving, of course,” Ed said in a tone that clearly denoted that surely Roy realized Ed didn't have his own driving gloves because as of yet, he didn't drive.

“You'll stretch them, your hands are ... wide,” Roy said, frowning.

“What?! My hands aren't fat! None of me is fat!” Ed huffed.

“I didn't say that, I said they were wide. The automail will stretch them, they're leather,” Roy said, pointing.

“No it won't, my hands aren't fat, automail can't be fat. Look, it's not any bigger than my other hand... Winry wouldn't make fat automail, are you nuts or something? You better never let her hear you say that,” Ed huffed.

“I'm not going to tell her, so if she finds out...” he gave Ed a meaningful look.

“Shouldn't I have a scarf and some goggles?” Ed asked.

“I don't know, are you planning to make the car fly?” Roy said. “Because if you are, I think I might be considering backing out.”

Ed snorted and then dashed to the door and pulled it open.

“Let's go!” he grinned and hopped out onto the porch. “Give me the keys!”

Roy sauntered after him, keys still firmly in his pocket. Edward bouncing in excitement was certainly a lovely sight as long as Roy didn't linger on the whiskers on Edward's face.

“I'm driving to breakfast, and then after that we'll find a nice deserted road and get you going with the basics,” he told his grinning lover.

“Ok, fair enough, I'm starving... for some reason I want french toast,” and Ed hopped over the porch railing and trotted over to the roadster.

**

Al poked his head into the office and then eased through the door, pulling it quietly shut behind him. No one was really about and that was just as well as far as he was concerned. He wished he'd stopped in the men's room on the way up and checked himself in the mirror at least one more time. A superstitious feel to the back of his head still revealed a bare neck and close clipped hair line.

He waited several nervous moments, hovering before Riza's desk before he loosened up enough to walk over to the window and glance out. He caught his half reflection in the polished glass and turned his head to profile, lifting his eyebrow and squaring his jaw.

Indeed losing the hair seem to have... matured him, refined him like a good wine. He felt virile and, dare he say it? Manly. It seemed that with the shortening of his locks some inner male-ness that has therefore been suppressed by his ponytail has sprang to the surface and gave him the desired aging effect he'd been longing for all this time.

Surely Riza would agree. She would be impressed, _(and he always wanted to impress her)_ , and perhaps feel better about being seen on his arm. Not that she seemed to mind being seen on his arm, ponytail not withstanding, but still, at least to his own mind, he felt that he'd bettered himself for her eyes.

He felt older.

He heard the door open behind him and turned around.

**

Ed lifted his chin and studied himself in the rear view mirror. They were sitting on a gravel road, the top of the roadster down. He was full of breakfast and he was in the driver's seat. Life was good.

“It makes me look older,” he suddenly purred. “Sophisticated, learned. I like this look.”

Roy rubbed the bridge of his nose and looked anywhere but at his preening lover. He has his own views on sophisticated and learned and neither of them involved Ed growing a bristle brush on his face.

“Right,” Roy interjected. “Ok, this is the gear shift,” and he put his hand over the balled end of the lever sticking up from the floorboard.

“Don't you think it makes me look older?” Ed pressed.

“Driving a car? Yes, I'm sure that will make you look older,” Roy evaded.

Ed opened his mouth again, but Roy jumped ahead.

“Left square pedal is the clutch, right square pedal is the break, the long pedal is the gas,” he rushed ahead. “This is the hand break, this is the gear shift, the big dial right in front of you is the speedometer.”

Ed's gaze was darting back and forth as Roy spoke and pointed, he was nodding slightly and his fingers strayed over the hand break and up to the gear shift, settling over the back of Roy's hand as it still rested there.

“This is how you put the car in gear. The 'R' is for reverse... but you know that,” and Roy grinned and Ed reddened slightly under all that damnable facial hair and snorted. “This is neutral, this is first gear, second gear, third gear and so on,” Roy said. “You will need to press the clutch before changing gears and you determine the changing of the gears by the sound of the engine, did you pay attention like I told you to when we were driving over here?”

“Yes, yes,” Ed said impatiently.

“I guess it's good that's the side your automail is on or we could call you a real lead foot,” and Roy grinned at his own joke. “Get it?”

Ed looked at him blankly.

“You don't get it do you?” Roy said, disappointed that his comedic genius was always so underappreciated.

“Can I crank it now?” Ed said.

“Fine,” Roy sighed. “Put your foot on the break and your other foot on the clutch, then crank it. After you get it cranked put your hand on the hand break and push the button, ease up on it then push it down.”

Ed pressed the brake and clutch almost to the floor, grabbed the keys and turned them with enough force that Roy thought they would twist in the ignition. Then he grabbed the hand break, jerked it up and slammed it down and returned both hands to the wheel and gave Roy a cocky grin that went straight to Roy's groin.

“Ok,” Roy said, “that's done. Now you're going to ease up on the brake. Clutch to the floor, right foot on the gas. Put the gear shift in first gear and start easing up on the clutch. As the clutch comes up we'll start moving a little bit, that's fine.”

Ed kept nodding and he gripped the gear shift. His eyes darted to Roy's in a moment of doubt, but then he set his jaw, _(his hair encrusted jaw)_ , and managed to wiggle the stick into first gear. He cautiously tapped the gas once and the car made a shudder and an eager sound. Ed seemed to shiver all over at it and then he began to lift his foot from the clutch.

 

**

 

“Alphonse, I didn't expect you to stop by today,” the Colonel said as she came back into her office, her dog at her heels, a file in her hands. She stopped and tilted her head, her slight smile never leaving her face.

“Somethings different,” she said, “you've cut your hair.”

In that very instant, Al's mind was suddenly flooded with the squeal of the steno-pool. _I love what you've done with your hair!_ Private A would say to Private B. _It's so darling and short! It must be very easy to manage!_ they'd titter. His former budding manliness fled squealing like a steno-pool secretary itself and Al reached up and slapped the back of his neck. Tried to stop the heat in his cheeks and please, oh please, don't let him mumble.

“Oh, yeah,” he mumbled anyway, “what do you think?”

“I like it,” the Colonel said, making her way over to her desk, “It's very...”

 _Darling!_ Al's mind screamed.

“Professional,” she said. “It's a good look for a young business man.”

“Well, that's what I thought, too,” Al lied. “I thought it was time I looked my age,” he emphasized, ignoring her 'young business man' remark.

Riza nodded, lying the file on her desk, she stepped over to him and reached up to neaten his collar.

“Just so,” she said softly. “Did you have an errand in this part of town?” she asked.

The last remnants of whatever age-edifying feeling the shorning of his hair had left him fled before her touch on his shirt. It was all he could do not to duck his head and shuffle his feet.

“I... no, not really,” he confessed, one tiny lie was one too many to her in his book.

She brushed down the front of his vest and then smiled up into his eyes.

“You came to see me then?” she seemed rather pleased at the random visit.

“No, I came to see Hayate,” he tried to joke, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

She laughed and moved away then, he caught himself before reaching for her, she was at work after all.

“Hayate has more of a social life than I do,” she countered. “He's very popular you know, he has quite the circle of admirers.”

Hayate, for his part, was rather oblivious to the fact Al was a visitor for his royal self. He had already lain down on his pillow and showed no inclination to get up and be attentive of his guest.

“What are you going to do with the rest of your day?” she asked.

 _You mean besides hang around and moon over you?_

“Since I'm in town I might as well pick up a few things, browse a book store, meet you for dinner?” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets and smiling.

“I get off promptly at 5:30,” she said with a graceful nod.

He wandered back into the hall, heading for the stairs. Lieutenant Harper passed him in the hall on the way back to the office, stopped and turned around.

“Alphonse?” she asked and he turned to smile at her, nod his head.

“Wow, you cut your hair,” she grinned. “It looks good on you, makes you look older.”

He bounced down the stairs after that.

**

Roy almost brained himself on the dashboard and reached up quickly to grab the edge of the windshield.

“Fuck!” Ed shrieked, yet again and the little roadster shimmied in anger and missed gear offense. They sat idling for a moment.

Ed struggled with the gear shift and managed to get it back in neutral, he grit his teeth, jammed the clutch to the floor but then for some inexplicable reason hit the gas. The roadster roared in place and Roy yelped and felt his ass get about a foot of clearance off the seat.

“Yeah, ok don't say it,” Ed yelled over the noise “That was stupid. I'll get it, I'll get it,” the tip of his tongue was sticking out of the corner of his mouth and despite the situation and facial stubble Roy wanted to grope him in the back seat.

With some grunts and the fortification of a few extra swear words, Ed got the roadster off and moving again. They were on a small gravel and dirt road that seemed to circle the lake. It seemed like a nice, quiet place to let Ed grind a few gears on the rental car. But Ed's inexperience, coupled with the pitted and bumpy road was not falling in line with the idyllic driving lesson Roy had planned. In his version, Ed struggled but prevailed, was rather pleased with himself and turned cuddly, _(Ed often did this when he was feeling accomplished. Nothing turned Roy on more than a confident Ed achieving a personal goal)_. Then they had mind shattering sex in the back seat.

That was the plan.

Instead, as many of their plans went, it was all askew and frenzied. Ed managed to get the car into second gear rather successfully and the scenery started to fly by, perhaps a little faster than Roy would like. By another successful gear change, they were close to 40 mph and Roy sat back a little nervously and tried not to grip the dashboard or hand break or anything else in a panicky way lest Ed got offended. But just the look on Ed's face was enough to make Roy decide that flirting with his life in a speeding roadster with the Fullmetal Alchemist was worth it.

The grin on Ed's jaw was razor. His ponytail waved as his banner and his flag behind him. He looked... jaunty, one hand resting on the wheel, the other on the gear shift, eyes trained straight ahead. He must have caught Roy looking at him out of the corner of his eye because he turned his head and winked.

Roy couldn't help himself. He wasn't sure how his hand found it's way onto Ed's thigh. He would swear on a stack of bibles it was never his intention to feel Ed up while he was doing 40 down a windy gravel road around a lake.

But he did it all the same.

At first it seemed like a good idea to Ed, too. He was adrenaline stoked and feeling cocky and proud. They shared a hard, quick kiss so Ed could get his eyes back on the road.

Roy's hand crept over to press and massage Ed's inner thigh, and Roy was sure Ed was purring, but he couldn't be heard over the roar of the wind. He leaned over a bit more, nipping at Ed's shoulder, _(lightly because of the automail, but he was always certain Ed felt it)_ and moved his fingers up Ed's thigh to rub the sides of his knuckles lightly against his crotch.

This would be where the plans took a ghastly turn in the wrong direction. Edward jumped, just a little, but he also reacted and neither of them noticed for a few vital moments that the gas pedal suddenly went all the way to the floor. Instead, they were grinning at each other like loons.

The General, just as he was about to practice his technique of trying to remove Ed's tonsils without the need for surgery, happened to glance at the road.

Panic is a notorious procrastinator. When it first registers, the first thing it does is send all the vital organs on a brief coffee break. The most notable slackers around the water cooler are, of course, the vocal chords and the thought process. They both take their time, because they are underappreciated and deserve this break, before finally meandering back to their desks to answer the wildly blinking red phones of doom.

It's usually too late by this point to take a memo and run it all they way up to cerebrum central and tap politely on the inner General's office door, lest he be up to something naughty with the figment Edwards yet again.

While the logical part of the brain milled outside an office door, wondering if it would be all right to just walk on in and take a camera, the less organized and more physical side of the brain decided now was the time to take action into it's own hand. The vocal chords owed it a favor, so now it was going to cash in.

“BRAKE!” the General screamed, more or less right into Ed's ear and Ed flailed before jamming his foot onto the clutch and trying to shy away from a busted eardrum, and in doing so, wrenching the steering wheel far, far to the left and off what little road there was to begin with and onto what seemed to be a grassy slope.

“NO, NO THE OTHER BRAKE!” the General shouted and more or less threw himself, head first into the floorboard, trying to jam the pedal down with both hands. By now, Ed's panic center had shot off the first memo to his cerebrum central, and at the helm there was an Edward but also an advisory Al, so Ed reacted a bit faster than Roy, lifting his automail foot and bringing it right down on top of Roy's hands on the brake pedal.

Roy, of course, jerked up and slammed the back of his head on the underside of the steering wheel, causing the visual unit to report to cerebrum central that there were stars in the floorboard of the roadster, and who knew? The digit recon unit was reporting back at the same time, they were certain that Armageddon was reigning supreme in each and every finger Roy possessed. Their advise consisted of suggesting that the inner General shriek a lot and then pout for attention, or a hospital, or possibly both.

The visual unit turned on the waterworks, to see if they could get rid of the sparklies and the General heeded the advise of the inner General and shrieked and tried to chew through Ed's automail leg to free his flattened appendages.

It was then Ed's vocal chords got switched back on.

“LAKE!” Ed said, then the pressure was off Roy's hand and Roy could have kissed him, only Ed seemed to be trying to crawl over the front seat and into the back. Well, that wasn't right, who was going to drive the car now?

Just when Roy was about to make a snarky and exasperated comment about _somebody_ steering the car there was a sudden hard and jarring thump, then a strange gurgling sound and the engine sputtered and died. This was fine with Roy, his head was really pounding and the sudden silence was nice.

“Roy!” Ed's voice was all high and squeaky, it was really amusing, and Roy wanted to make a comment on that too, but Ed interrupted him again.

“Come on! Come on! It's sinking!” Ed shrieked. He then reached over the front seat and grabbed Roy by the back of his collar and heaved.

Roy was unceremoniously dragged over the front seat and into the back. Ed kept a firm grip on him, even when Roy tried to swat his hand and ended up swatting his automail wrist, which made his bruised, _(and possibly mangled and broken digits)_ ache anew, and he went limp and whined. The automail sure had it out for him today. Edward grunted, heaved him again and that was when Roy noticed all the water around them, and it seemed to be getting higher, was there a flood and he hadn't noticed?

“Here goes nothing,” Ed said behind him and took a deep breath. “You know I swim about as well as you sing, and we both know that is not at all. Take a deep breath.”

Roy wondered why his head was buzzing and blinked a few times to clear his vision.

“I never claimed I could sing,” he mumbled, his semi-concussion euphoria starting to fade. “What... are we in the lake?”

“Brilliant, Einstein,” Ed snorted, “and the longer we fuck around here the deeper we're getting, we're going in!” And Ed stepped off the back of the car, Roy's collar still gripped tightly in his automail hand.

“Ein-who?” Roy got out before going under.

**

Hayate strained at the end of his leash, panting eagerly toward the doorway his mistress had disappeared into.

“No Hayate, no dogs in the coffee shop,” Al said good naturedly. “Let's find a table on the sidewalk, ok? She'll be back in a minute.”

Hayate reluctantly conceded Al's semi-dominion in the absence of his true leader and trotted dutifully at Al's heels to a small ornate rod iron bistro table and chair set. Al sat in one of the chairs and Hayate sat at his feet, looking back toward the shop Riza had disappeared into.

“I wish Sophie would walk on a leash,” Al mused aloud. “I feel bad about leaving her on her own, but then again, she doesn't seem to mind.” He smiled at the little black and white dog, and Hayate wagged his tail.

Al leaned over to be conspiratorially close to the little dog and Hayate lifted his nose to sniff at Al's chin then give it a lick.

“You know, if things go well you're going to have to learn to get along with Sophie,” he said in a near whisper. “I would really appreciate any help you could give me to that end. I know putting up with a cat might seem like a terrible burden, but in the end I think you'll reap the benefits. With both of us we could afford a place with a proper yard...” Al trailed off as Riza emerged from the coffee shop, two white porcelain latte mugs in her hands. She spotted him and smiled and headed over. Behind her trotted one of the shop attendants with a bowl.

Riza sat a mug in front of him.

“With vanilla powder, as you like it,” she said and then sat down her own mug. She took the bowl form the shopkeeper, nodded her thanks and sat it down in front of Hayate.

“A bit of coffee and warm milk, as you like it,” she told the small dog. Then she took her own seat.

Al lifted his mug and inhaled, closing his eyes for a moment, then took a cautious sip to test temperature.

“So what were you and Hayate conspiring about when I came out of the shop?” Riza gently teased. “I hope it's not about where he should be hiding soup bones again.”

“Nothing like that, we're reformed now, aren't we Hayate?” Al said.

Hayate paused in his rhythmic lapping to wag his tail at the sound of his name, then, satisfied that obligation was settled, returned to his bowl of milk-coffee.

Riza settled back in her chair, she too used her latte as aromatherapy before risking her tongue to the heat.

“We should go somewhere this weekend,” Al said. “There are plenty of tour books in the bookstore on the square, we could find a local attraction.”

“Or an Inn and make the night of it,” Riza said.

“We... we could do that,” Al nodded.

 _An Inn_

 _Make the night of it_

All the hairs on the back of his recently bared neck began to stand on end, _(not that they could stand very far, being as short as they were now)_. He and Riza, together, alone, all night, in an Inn. He took a very large sip of his latte and then held his breath to keep from yelping as the inside of his mouth reached an oven-like temperature.

“There are some nice bed and breakfasts not to far outside of East City,” Riza said. “I've read about them in the travel and leisure section of the paper.”

 _She'd been reading about Inns. She probably had a favorite picked out. They were going to an Inn where they would be alone, together, all night. Al nudged the needle on the stuck record in his mind._

 _Alone, all night, together, in an Inn._

“Did you find one you liked?” he asked, opening his mouth to let his tongue have some air, it was sweating it seemed.

“I did,” she nodded. “I read about one called The Cumberland, it's about an hour or so south of East City, in the hill district of Hopeswell.”

Al, of course, had been to most places, and had probably passed through Hopeswell at some point in his well traveled youth, but he couldn't find a mental file on it, it was probably just a place to stare at from a moving passenger car.

“It's located at a historical site,” Riza continued. “It has many hiking trails, they offer horseback riding; it seems very peaceful.”

Al smiled and tried his latte again, finding it acceptable and only slightly stinging to his already singed mouth.

“I take it I can find their number in the paper?” he asked.

“I saved the clipping,” Riza said, her own latte of great interest to her.

 _It's almost like she'd planned it._

**

Ed lay sprawled on his back in the grass on the slope, but Roy was sitting up, leaning back on his hands and looking at the butt of the roadster, the only thing still visible of the car with it's nose in the lake.

“Did you like that car?” Roy finally asked the sprawled young man behind him.

“Sure, I really liked it. I liked that the top went down and I liked the spokes on the hubcaps, what was not to like? It's even a nice color,” Ed returned.

“Good, because I'm pretty sure the company I rented it from isn't going to want it back. It looks like we just bought you a car,” Roy said.

Ed sat straight up. Just from lying flat to upright, just like that. Roy suppressed a jealous grumble. No rolling onto his side and using his hands to push up from Edward, _(or flailing like a turtle until he was offered a hand up)_.

“My car?” Ed said in a small voice.

“Yes,” Roy said. “If we can get it out of the lake and get it to run again. I guess if we can't you can always use it as a planter...”

Ed was suddenly up on his feet. Just like that, from sitting upright to up on his feet, like one fluid motion. How was he doing that? There must be some trick to that, because the General wasn't that _old_ , and he had to get onto his knees and put his hand on the edge of the desk, or take someone's hand and then get to his feet. Maybe there was some kind of spring mechanism in the automail that Roy didn't know about, designed to propel one to their feet when needed.

The General's eyes widened when Edward turned to him with a large manic grin and held out both hands.

“Come on, get up,” he crowed. “I have to get my car out of the lake!”

“I think that's easier said that done,” Roy snorted, taking Ed's hands and being hauled to his feet.

“Oh ye of little faith,” Ed grinned and wiggled his fingers before rubbing his palms together. “With enough motivation I've seen ants move mountains. So if I get it out, I get to keep it, right?”

“Ed, what do you think you're going to do with it? The engine probably has a good foot or so of mud shoved into it, the leather will be all water damaged,” Roy waved his hands at the car. “If you want a car that badly, you can call the one at home your car...”

“Not the same,” Ed said. “This is mine. Now stand back,” Ed laced his fingers and cracked his knuckles, “It's been a long time since I've had to be _creative_ with transmuting.”

That was enough incentive for Roy to climb the slope all the way up to the road.

Ed paced back and forth for a moment on the bank, before going still and then clapping his hands. He held them there, templed and upright, his elbows straight out to either side of him. For all his faithlessness, here lie his faith. A religion of science, a belief in himself; a church with no delegation but a fanatical leader and an almost godly power.

He knelt and laid his hands on the ground. There was a long, unbroken silence and Roy shifted from foot to foot, waiting and watching. As he was about to call down to Ed and ask him if his transmuter was broken, _(and wondered if Ed could come up with some smartass comeback. Probably not, Ed was never good at one liners.)_ , the lake around the car began to ripple and churn.

The roadster began to rock back and forth slowly and Ed seemed to be doing the same thing on the bank. They swayed together, then Ed seemed to lean backward, as he did so the butt of the roadster rose up, just barely and the water almost looked like it was boiling. Ed leaned forward, then back again, hard and the roadster lurched and then there was a loud sucking sound. The sound grew in volume and the hair on Roy's arms began to stand up. It made him think of cheap whores for some reason. A whole chorus of them, standing on a street corner in too short, too tight skirts; their painted lips puckered. Of course, his mind pulled up the association to one very drunken, post-academy graduation night. Later on Maes assured him that despite what his eyes had told him, in reality there had only been two prostitutes and one of them kissed like a lamprey.

He'd had a hickey for a month.

What jarred him back to the situation at hand was the air being filled with an overwhelming 'pop'. Just like that, 'pop'. And the little roadster came free of it's muddy prison and shot back out onto the grassy slope, landing on it's wheels and rattling loudly.

You would think that would be that, but it wasn't. Instead, the roadster began to roll right back toward the water, and Roy pointed and raised his voice in a half exclamation when a giant grass hand appeared before the car and stopped it in it's tracks. After a moment the roadster began to roll backwards, leaving the hand where it stood to slowly and alchemically melt back into the ground. The grassy slope suddenly turned into a reflection of the lake itself as it rippled and waved in an imitation of the water. At each crest of a green 'wave', the roadster was pushed a little further up the slope; until finally it came to rest on the road and Roy walked over to it, leaned inside and pulled the handbrake up.

From the bank Ed let out a whoop and Roy looked up to see him bounding up the slope. Once he reached the road, he threw himself over the roadster's hood and sighed.

“My car!” He lifted his head to grin at Roy. “I can't wait to tell Al, he'll be so jealous,” and Ed let out a little evil giggle that was so very unlike him Roy wondered if the whole driving experience hadn't unhinged him somehow. And how unfair that would be when in truth, it should be Roy getting to act like a moron, he'd had the head injury, after all.

“I'm sure Al will be thrilled for you have a mildewy, non-working car,” Roy said, hands on hips. “How do you think we're going to get this back to the cabin? And for that matter, what are we going to drive home?”

“What does it matter?” Ed purred and rolled over onto his back, still stretched out partially on the hood. “We still have more than a week left, you'll think of something, you always do,” then Ed pushed up and let his eyes go to half mast.

“Let's have sex in my car,” he said, voice going to just this side of husky.

Roy blinked a couple of times, looked around, then looked at Ed again. He wasn't going to say 'with me' this time, because obviously it was with him, _(and he was the only other person around)_. What really frightened him was his own, sudden, hesitation.

“The car's all wet,” Roy said, waving at it.

“So?” Ed said and slid off the hood and just leaned against the car. “So are we, but you know what? I can fix all that.” Ed straightened up, held out his hands. “Observe, nothing up my sleeves,” then he clapped, “and presto, chango!” He put his hands on his own chest and a sudden fine mist of water flew off him in all directions. It shimmered for a moment around him, before dropping to the ground. He grinned at Roy.

“The trick is not letting the transmutation touch your skin,” he said with a wink. He then rubbed his hands together and gave the roadster the manic eye and Roy stepped back, not like it would have mattered if he'd gotten any _wetter_.

The roadster received the same water shaking as it's new owner and it even seemed to shimmy like a dog that had took a dip in the lake rather than being a car that got driven into the lake, which was what it was.

Roy was polite enough to clap, after all, it was a fine display of delicate transmuting.

“Your turn,” Ed said cheerfully and waved him over. How could Roy resist that smile and the all over almost-bounce of happiness Ed was vibrating with? He walked over and put his arms around Ed and Ed grinned, clapped his hands behind Roy's back and made him dry.

“That's pretty handy,” Roy purred next to his ear. “Something you learned on the road?”

“Yes,” Ed said, pressing and molding to Roy's body. “I was always getting rained on or car splashed, it was very useful.”

“Kept Al from rusting?” Roy murmured and caught an earlobe between his lips.

“Yes,” Ed said and squirmed a bit.

Roy backed Ed against his car, ran one hand up to the back of his neck to grip and hold him, then the other down his side to his hip. Edward made no protest at all, in fact he whimpered enticingly and arched his hips against Roy's. Roy felt the bristle of Ed's facial hair against his cheek and sighed. Still, it was a small price to pay for getting put his hands and mouth anywhere he pleased, and Ed would shave it off once they got home; so he could endure it for now.

The next phase was getting the door open, the seat pulled up and negotiating their way into the back seat.

“It's a good thing being a soldier has made me so adaptable,” Roy grunted as they both jockeyed for position. Roy grabbed Ed and maneuvered him around until he was on his hands and knees, his butt nestled against Roy's crotch.

“You think you're adaptable?” Ed snorted. “You whine when you get a hang nail and we are away from home and away from your clippers. You won't just yank it out with your teeth, like I do, _that_ is adaptable,” and Ed nodded and then ground his rump against Roy's crotch.

Roy gave him one quickly, hard thrust against his backside then wrapped his arms around Edward, going for his belt buckle.

“Not all of us are masochists,” the elder alchemist panted. “And not all of us like the taste of blood, especially not our own. The way you suck on your finger after you've done that is downright gruesome.” Roy pulled the belt open and worked on the button and zipper.

“You do that so it doesn't get infected,” Ed panted, rocking back and forth a bit, making it difficult for Roy to concentrate. “It's not like I do that all the time, if there are clippers handy, I use those.”

“We should get an extra travel set and keep them in the glove box of the car,” Roy said when he could think again. “Then neither of us will be without them.”

“You mean in the glove box with your tissues, comb, mirror, cologne, and spare razor? You think they would fit?” Ed wiggled his hips as Roy began to tug his pants down over his hips. Roy then grabbed his boxers and gave them a yank before fishing in his own pocket for the bottle of lube he'd remembered to bring with them.

“I'm sure some compromise could be reached,” Roy growled, undoing his own pants before opening the small bottle and wetting his fingers. “Everything in that glove box is practical.”

“I think you should just get a purse,” Ed said, then yelped a little and turned to glare over his shoulder.

“Ooops,” Roy said, “fingers slipped.”

“I'll slip you one right into...,” but Ed trailed off, eyes half closing. “Slip them a little to the left,” he panted after a bit and licked his lips.

Roy smiled slowly and moved to accommodate. With his free hand he pushed Ed's shirt up his back and leaned over to lick up his bared spine. Ed made a delicious little sound and pushed back a bit.

“You know, if we were in the sedan at home doing this we'd have more room,” Roy murmured against Ed's skin, pressing and spreading with his fingers firmly buried. Roy's other hand slid around Edward's side to his belly and then down. He casually fingered the head of Ed's erection before gripping it loosely. He began to move the fingers inside Ed in the same motion he stroked Ed's cock.

Ed just whimpered in response. He reached up with his automail hand and gripped the back of the driver's seat, his other hand gripped the edge of the ragtop that was folded back. He raised himself up a bit and pushed back again and Roy groaned and slowly pulled his fingers free, released his cock and reached up to grip Ed's hips.

Roy guided him, back and down, right into his lap. Ed gasped out and curled his spine when the head of Roy's own cock seated against his anus and Roy nudged but didn't press to enter. Ed licked his lips and waited, schooling his breathing. Roy's fingers pressed tightly; he dug in with his thumbs, working them back and forth slowly, and he held Ed there, suspended and trembling.

“You know what? We're going to fuck in your car,” Roy leaned forward and hissed in the blond's ear.

“Oh yessss,” Edward groaned and gripped the door frame harder, tried to push himself down onto Roy's cock. But the General tightened his grip and held him off.

“In the back seat, out in the open, by a lake,” the General continued. He lipped Ed's earlobe. “It's leather, hand stitched, down stuffed. It's a really nice car.”

Ed's eyes rolled back and he shook. He tried to speak, perhaps coherently, but it only came out as a gurgle. So instead, to express his interest in participating in this erotic activity the General was suggesting; he grunted and tried to shove himself down, yet again.

Roy didn't quite catch him this time, but he halted his progress. Roy took several deep breaths for control. Ed groaned and snarled, tried to overcome the grip Roy had on his waist.

They fought like this for a moment, but Roy was at a clear disadvantage. He'd given over years ago. Ed conquered him, overwhelmed him; sank onto him, coming upright. Ed's back touched his chest and Roy wrapped both arms around him, held him; deep inside him at the same time. Ed shook his head, his ponytail slapping Roy in the face and Roy's hand dropped, over Ed's stomach, down between his legs. He gripped him, taking Ed's cock by the base, wrapping his fingers around it firmly. Ed dropped his chin to his chest; grabbed the back of the front seat, Roy used his grip to guide Ed up. Ed gasped, rising up on his knees and then Roy used the same grip to guide Ed down and Ed sank back into his lap.

Here is where Ed surrendered; only in this. Roy pressed his face into his lover's back; stroking and goading, teasing and guiding. Ed moved to the pace Roy set for him, complaining bitterly, but acquiesing all the same. But Roy's control began to slip, in a desperate attempt to try and keep the upper hand in the situation, Roy ground his nose into Ed's spine. He rather hoped the pain of trying to crush all the cartilage in his nose would be enough to keep him from letting Ed bounce in his lap, which seemed to be what Ed wanted to do. It wasn't enough however and Ed began to use Roy's thighs like a high tension diving board.

In accordance with the terms of Roy's imminent surrender, Roy signed over all rights to move his hand in a languid up and down fashion. His wrist was handed over to Ed's steel grip and his people tried to negotiate a pace with Ed's people, but it just wasn't working out. It seemed the terms of Ed's cease-fire was a non-conditional thing. Roy was sized up, sorted out and put to work in the capacity best deemed for his prisoner of Ed status; and that capacity was to provide an orgasm not only worthy of his new ruler, but to be quick about doing it.

Seeking any sort of truce at this point was futile and the General flailed around for his own hand hold on the car. The leader of Ed, _(who, ironically enough, was called 'Ed')_ , made it clear he had a zero tolerance policy when it came to not getting off and Roy, a mere peon in the new Elric Army, was put on double-time for the rest of his stint as trampoline with a dick.

When he came, it was to the loud and frantic orders of his leader who was currently broadcasting his rapture at the top of his lungs across the lake.

**

“How are we going to get it back to the cabin, let alone back to Central?” the General asked later, lying on his back in the grass of the slope, arms folded behind his head.

“At the moment, I don't really care,” Ed sighed. Then he stretched and rolled up onto his side, facing Roy, he rested his cheek in his palm, elbow serving as a prop. He gave Roy a lazy, satisfied smile when the General turned his head to look at him.

“You look sated,” Roy grinned and preened, just a bit. “I guess I still got it.”

“What you really have is me,” Ed said with a laugh. “You know, the guy who thinks you walk on water only you didn't hear that from his lips.”

Roy felt like he could carry the damn car back to Central after that. But instead he got to his feet, pulled Ed to his own feet. They walked to the top of the gravel road where they had a brief, directional inspired skirmish and a little bit of finger pointing and a who's who about how the car got into the lake.

Several hours later not only had they found the town, but gotten a ride to the nearest garage and then had another ride in the back of a truck to where the roadster had been left. Roy sat on a handkerchief in the back of the pick-up, because his pants were linen, he pointed out and Ed rolled his eyes. Ed was amazed that Roy could keep his ass on the tiny square of cloth the whole way back.

They got the roadster hitched up with a chain and Ed climbed in to steer it while the pick-up truck was used to tow it. Only the pick-up truck stalled before they reached the gravel road and they all had to get out and the pick-up had to be unhitched and pushed to the paved road. There it was tinkered with by its owner while Roy and Ed stood by and offered all sorts of unhelpful advice. They both had the audacity to blink in surprise when the man got the pick-up cranked, climbed in it and drove off leaving them standing there. They had been helpful, dammit, and if the man couldn't take a joke about his butt crack showing while he was hanging inside the hood of his pick-up, well they didn't need him anyway.

Roy complained a little about that to Ed, reiterating that Ed needed to study up on 'tact' more and low-brow humor less; but he conceded he knew Ed just couldn't help himself at certain times and was willing to forgive and forget this little incident because they were on vacation and Ed ought to be able to get away with a few things.

“You push, I'll steer,” Ed said, hopping into the roadster and giving Roy a bright grin. “It will be easy, this car is much smaller than that truck and we pushed it all the way to the road.”

“It was easy because there were three of us pushing it, now we are down to two and suddenly we're down to one in the pushing department,” Roy said, folding his arms.

“Well who is going to steer it when it starts moving?” Ed asked.

“Get out and push from that side with your hand on the steering wheel,” the General said, walking up to the passenger side of the car. “When we get it up to the road maybe we can flag down someone.”

Ed snorted, but got out and shut the door. He stood for a moment, hands on hips, figuring out how he was going to push _and_ steer. He put a hand over the door frame and the other on the steering wheel and looked at Roy.

“This is awkward, I don't think I can push _and_ steer, and I'm lighter than you, I should get in and steer while you push,” he informed him.

“I can't push this by myself,” Roy argued. “I know you're eager to drive it, but trust me when I say that driving it while it's moving under it's own power will be much more satisfying then driving it under my power, which won't be much unless you help.”

Ed grumbled but nodded, and watched as Roy reached in to jiggle the gear shift. Then Roy opened the side door, slide in, hooked his leg over the gear shift and pushed down on the clutch, having done that he could move the stick to neutral and the car began to roll... backwards.

It rolled right over Ed's left foot, thankfully, before Roy managed to get it stopped again. It was at this time, after Ed stopped yelling about his foot, that they both decided that picking on the only human in shouting distance with a pick-up truck had been a bad idea.

“Let's just walk back to somewhere we can get a ride back to the cabins and tomorrow I'll use the phone at the tavern and call _someone_ , I don't know who. Maybe Havoc, he's under my command and won't snitch on me if I blubber and beg to be rescued from this godforsaken, beautiful countryside!” the General informed Ed while waving his arms around.

“What?! I don't want to go home yet, we still got a lot of vacation days left!” Ed argued, waving his own arms around. “I'm not ready to go back yet, I'm still unwinding, I'm tight as a watch spring, ask anyone! All my students asked me if I was going to have a nice, long, relaxing break and I said yes! I'm going to have a nice, long, relaxing break even if it kills _you_ ,” Ed said, pointing now in lieu of waving.

The General put his hands on his hips, mouth turning down at the side in a frown. He studied Ed but kept his mouth shut. They both knew good and well the real reason they were here to 'unwind'. But bringing it up would accomplish nothing. Ed fell silent too, and turned to look off down the road. Roy moved forward then, dropped his arm over Ed's shoulder and indulged in a brief nosing of the top of Ed's head.

“Isn't it nice that all of this trauma is about a car?” Roy asked, and gave Ed's shoulder a squeeze. “Just a car?”

“Yeah,” Ed said with a nod. “If you look up 'it could have been worse' in the thesaurus I bet it has a picture of every damn one of us. Come on, if the town was that way then the cabins are this way,” and he started down the road.

“Every damn one of us and then some,” Roy agreed, falling into step beside him before stopping and turning around. “Are you sure town was that way?” he said after a moment.

**

10 days later.

  
Ed flopped face down onto the bed and squirmed all around on it, nosing pillows and tugging on the comforter.

“Did you miss me?” he asked the headboard. “I missed you, I bet it was lonely here for you, all the other bed sets in different rooms and none of you could move.”

Roy rolled his eyes and dumped his suitcase on the floor.

Ed sat up, rolled his shoulders and reached up to scratch his beard. Roy shuddered and turned to go back out into the hall so he didn't have to watch. He went back to pay the cab driver and get the final bags. It was odd to be in this foyer with R.D. not dancing at his heels. He'd have to fetch the dog first thing tomorrow and then he'd truly be home.

Ed had sprawled back out on the bed when Roy brought in the last of the bags and he still wasn't shaved. For some reason, Roy had it in his mind that the moment they'd crossed the threshold of their home, one of two things would happen. For one, all the hair on Ed's face would miraculously fall out in the foyer hallway, causing Roy to have to sweep and not complain about it for once, or, two, Ed would immediately go to the bathroom and shave.

Neither has happened so far, but it was still early yet and Roy held out hope. He wouldn't mind sweeping the bedroom floor either if it meant Ed would be beard-free.

“Come lay on the bed with me,” Ed said. “Didn't you miss it? It missed you.”

“If I do that, who is going to unpack?” Roy said. “It will still be there when we get ready for bed. Say, are you going to take a shower and shave?” he added hopefully.

“I guess so,” Ed said, stretching, his arms over his head. “But I have a couple of days before break is over,” he reached up to scratch at his chin again. “Come on, what's wrong? We had fourteen days off and we had sex almost eighteen times, tired of me now? Don't like the Ed in bed association anymore?” but Ed grinned, knowing the truth to be anything but.

Roy refrained from asserting it wasn't Ed in bed that bothered him, but the possibility of rug burn between his legs every time Ed got aggressive with his mouth. Or the fact his shoulders where covered with tiny puncture wounds from every time Ed decided to kiss him there and stab his with that _hair_ above his lip.

“Why the sudden fascination with the facial hair?” Roy let slip out. Ed lifted his head from the bed and frowned at Roy. At least Roy thought he was frowning, it was hard to tell since Ed's mouth was lost in the fur jungle.

“What do you mean?” Ed said. “It's not a fascination. It's natural, it just grows there unless I cut it off, same as you.”

“But you've never let it grow before,” Roy said, checking himself to keep the whine out of his voice. “You said you were letting it grow for vacation, you're not planning on keep it, are you?” he also managed to keep the horror of the prospect out of his voice as well.

Ed sat up again, leaning back on his hands and crossed his legs.

“You know what I think?” he asked his General. “I think you have issues with me looking my age, that's what I think,” and Ed stuck his nose in the air. “I'm going to keep it,” he informed Roy's pale visage. “I'm going to clean it up and wear it like many scholars used to wear it,” he reached up to stroke the beard, then pinned Roy with his eyes and grinned wickedly. “You know, just around my lips and chin, what is that called? A goatee?”

Roy had been on his knees before this man before. In surrender, in desire, but this would be the first time in supplication.. if it came to that.  
“I don't think it would suit you,” Roy managed with some dignity. “It's not about your age, we all know you're an adult now, Edward.”

“But you don't like it,” the man on his bed laughed.

There was a man on his bed and it made Roy's head swim a moment in consternation.

“The beard? No. Your age? Yes. You've matured, come of age like a fine wine. We are on equal footing and I like that very much,” the General said smoothly.

“Oh spoken like the Master Bullshitter I've known and loved all this time,” Ed said, flopping back on the bed again. “Well you can whimper all you like, the beard stays.”

“It scratches!” Roy blustered. “It's prickly and when you kiss me it's like kissing the rug we wipe our feet on at the back door! It's the wrong color! How can you have hair that color on your head and not on your face? You don't eat neatly enough to warrant it, I can tell you five separate occasions when you had food caught in it! It makes you look...”

“Older?” Ed interrupted.

“Shaggy!” the General finished out.

“Staying,” Ed sang out, not even bothering to lift his head.

“Oh my god, please shave it off, I just bought you a car for godsake!” Roy begged. The time for shamelessness was upon him.

“It's a non-working car,” Ed pointed out, “because you made me drive in into a lake, don't deny it.”

“It was an accident, because I was smitten with you, because you looked so happy I just had to touch you! That should count for something,” Roy wheedled.

“It's very nice, but not nice enough for me to make friends with the razor again,” Ed crosses his arms behind his head. “Sorry Roy, but the Professor is on his way to respectability, not only for his intellect, but for his beard as well.” Ed reached up to stroke it again, then lifted his head and gave Roy a smirk. At least Roy thought it was a smirk, it was hard to tell.

Roy picked up his suitcase, dropped it on the bed and opened it. He began to unpack it, moving around the room silently and quickly, putting his life back in order as best he could.

“You're only efficient when you're ticked off,” Ed said as he walked past.

Still Roy said nothing. He nudged Ed's suitcase up against Ed's wardrobe with his foot and, nose in air, strode into the bathroom. He started the tub and began to peel out of his traveling clothes. Ed appeared in the doorway, _(or was it the mountain man of Borneo? Roy was hard pressed to tell the difference)_ and leaned on the jamb, watching him.

Roy got into the tub and slide down, putting his heels up on the side of the tub, to either side of the faucet and let his chin sink in as well.

“If you're not talking to me that just means I get more air-time to talk to you,” Ed said. “Even if it means just talking at you. I get enough talk you see, I have twenty-three people that are just dying to talk to me, non-stop if I'd let them.”

Roy looked at Ed sidelong, then away.

“I bet the boys will think it's great,” Ed said, turning to look at himself in the mirror and lifting his chin. “They all go on about how they wish they were old enough to have one.” That seemed to appeal to Ed and he preened to himself, turning to study his profile.

Roy rolled his eyes and wiggled his toes, he groped around for the soap and began to lather up his wash cloth.

“Are you really not speaking to me?” Ed finally said.  
Roy sliced his eyes back Ed's way, then sighed, blowing little bubbles into the bathwater. He lifted his chin to keep soapy water out of his mouth.

“Because you know, you're too old to pout,” Ed gave a sage nod.

Roy's eyebrow did the angry 'v' thing and he slumped back down, snorting water this time.

“Maybe it's time you grew a beard,” Ed said, turning and walking out of the bathroom. “So we'll remember who the mature one is around here.”


	21. Chapter 21

His tiny eyes darted back and forth and between his fat, sausage shaped fingers he rolled the brim of a battered bowler hat. Round and round it went. Luludja watched him from behind the partially curtained doorway at the back of her parents’ small grocery store. He was round, but that didn't make him jolly. His rounded stature might have been suited to a jovial nature once, but his swine-like eyes only held a dull luster and his tongue moved out of the gap in his face that served as his mouth.

He had no neck, but yet still managed to turn his head. He abruptly leaned close to a bin of potatoes and inhaled deeply, mumbling to himself the entire time. His threadbare coat and luster-less shoes bore witness to the fact that this gentleman wasn't going to be helping the family coffers this evening.

With a sigh she pushed aside the beaded curtain and strolled into the shop proper. Her hands were on her hips, her long dark hair falling carelessly over her shoulders and down her back. She even had on the little black top her mother so hated, but she was wearing her big skirt. How was she going to flirt, _(Not that this man was worth a flirt)_ if she didn't have the proper attire?

He didn't notice her at first. He was making small sounds that made the hair on the back of her arms raise up, and still he was ogling the potatoes. If she didn't drive him out soon it was likely he might start stuffing them into his mouth or pockets, and she couldn't have that. Her father often warned her about handouts.

“Hey Mister, you have to buy those before you drool on them,” she said. “No one will want them with your spit all over them... are you listening to me?”

He turned to look at her then, and something happened; she wasn't sure what, but he suddenly _glowed_. It wasn't bright and shiny, like a glowing person should be, it was rather dark and it looked red. His face, so dull and lax only moments before, burst into the most amazing grin and his eyes, which she had thought to be transplanted straight from a sow, lit up, like a million suns come to life.

Luludja took a half step back then gasped as her wrist was engulfed in one massive fist, and the little round man, the little _jovial_ round man, spoke.

“Lust!” he cried in glee.

  
**

Edward Elric strolled into the room like he owned the place. And for all intents and purposes, he did. He'd already been at the receiving end of an admiring Ms. Bloom, _(who told him his beard was the best thing since sliced bread, but maybe not in those words)_ and was ready to take on the world yet again.

The 'world' of course, was twenty-three boys and their eagerness to go out and inflict alchemy on an unsuspecting world.

The first on the scene, naturally, was Tom Pine. He came bouncing in and glanced up at Edward, who was sitting at his desk, and then Tom promptly ran into another desk when he couldn't tear his eyes away.

“You ok?” the Professor called from the front of the classroom.

“Uh, yeah, I'm fine,” Tom said, embarrassed, and negotiated the rest of the trip to his desk without incident.

“What did you do for break?” the Professor asked as Tom got settled.

“We went to see my cousins,” Tom said, trying not to look directly at the professor.

“Did you have a good time?” the Professor pressed, being unusually chatty.

“Yeah,” Tom said, fumbling with his notebook so he didn't have to look up. “It was great.”

When the expected congratulatory comment about his beard, _(therefore reaffirming his passage into adulthood)_ was not forthcoming, Edward let the boy be, glancing down at his own notes.

Tom piped up after a couple of minutes of silence.

“Did you have a good time on break, Professor?” he asked across the empty room.

“Yes I did,” Ed said, looking back up quickly, grinning. Waiting, hoping for Tom to notice anything _different_ about him.

“That's good,” Tom said, quickly dropping his eyes again.

Ed kept looking at him, and then slowly lowered his eyes back to his desk, glancing up only once to see if Tom might speak again but he didn't.

It wasn't long before the sound of footsteps and the murmur of voices brought fresh hope. The classroom door swung open, spilling gray uniforms into the room. Edward looked up and half smiled to see three of his gang of four making their triumphant return. Daniel was in the lead. He stopped at his desk, and stretched and yawned, dropping a notebook onto it. The top button of his uniform was undone and his hair was a bit of a mess. Eric immediately folded his lanky frame into his own desk and Duffy looked toward Ed and halted in his tracks.

Daniel caught Duffy's sudden halt of movement and looked toward the big desk, too.

“Hello,” the Professor said, “I hope you're all rested up because I have some big plans for this quarter.”

Neither boy said anything, in fact they looked at each other, and then they both looked at Eric, who was now also drawn to the spectacle at the big desk.

Seth took this opportunity to slip in, and take up his desk behind Daniel's. He peered around them, to see what they were all wordlessly gawking at, reaching up to adjust his glasses.

“Don't tell me that by some miraculous chance you were all struck dumb over the break,” the Professor said into the silence. “There is no way I could be that lucky.”

The gauntlet had been thrown.

“Nah,” Daniel drawled, “we're trying to figure out why there are caterpillars mating on your chin.”

“We're too young for Sex Ed class, Professor,” Duffy added.

“Did you transmute it there? Was it an accident?” Seth asked.

“My grandpa has whiskers like that,” Eric offered.

The professor bristled, all the way from his chin to top of his head. He set his jaw, or at least it seemed he set his jaw; it was too difficult to tell because his chin was behind a wall of brown fuzzy camouflage now. He laced his fingers together, elbows on his desk and lifted an eyebrow that while it's color didn't match the hair on his chin, was kind of like an accent and didn't clash or anything.

“So it's going to be like that, is it?” the Professor said with a little smile.

Eric, Seth and Duffy all darted a nervous glance at Daniel. They were his lackeys, this was true, but in the same context they wanted badly to be on the Professor's good side; because he was just cool like that.

It was then that Richard and Boyd wandered in, talking about the upcoming football season, and Richard stopped so suddenly Boyd ran into this back.

“Whoa, Professor, you grew one of those beatnik things my dad wants to disown my older brother for!” Richard gushed.

Finally! Vindication! Proof he had finally tread into the adult world! Yes, yes! Recognize his coming of age... wait...

“Beatnik?” the Professor asked.

“All the 'free-thinkers' have them,” Richard confirmed.

“Free thinkers?” Edward repeated. It seemed there was a world out there, and somehow he was missing out.

“You don't want nothing to do with them,” Daniel said. “They're going to be the ruination of society.” This was Daniel's father talking.

There was a general murmuring of agreement from around the room and Ed felt his eyebrow twitch.

“I think that's a bit of over generalization,” he said to quell the uprising in the making, “there have been several groups of people out to ruin civilization, and it hasn't worked yet. I know: I use to be a member of one of them, just like all your fathers.”

This, of course, was blasphemy. But they weren’t quite sure _why_ it was blasphemy, and while they milled over a good comeback, the bell rang. Everyone begrudgingly took their seats as a few stragglers came flying in the door and provided unintentional entertainment by trying to kill themselves while trying to get into their respective seats.

It was just as well. The last thing he needed was a debate on just what Ed thought of the military. Said military he was once a member of, said military Roy still believed in. No, he didn't need a discussion on _that_.

He glanced up to see twenty-three sets of eyes trained on him. It always made him stand a little straighter, but in reality they were trained on his chin and that eventually sunk in. He might as well field the questions and get it over with. Why was everyone so resistant to change? He pointed at the first hand in the air.

“Did you razor break? My dad gets whiskers when his razor breaks and he doesn't go get a new one right away. My mom says she can do it with tweezers, that always makes him go get a new one.”

They weren't _whiskers_. It was a beard, a beard! He wasn't a beatnik either, he just wanted to look older! Was it a crime he wasn't aware of?

“They aren't whiskers,” he said, not meaning it to sound as defensive as it came out. “It's a goatee,” he reasoned. “And no, my razor isn't broken,” he finished.

“It's a goat?” Daniel gleefully leapt in. “So it's not caterpillars, it's a goat,” he confirmed.

“It's a goa _tee_ ,” Seth corrected.

“Beatniks have them,” Richard chorused in.

“I didn't know we were charged for thinking, why do beatniks get to think for free?” Duffy asked.

“No, no, no,” Daniel said, “that is not what it means.”

“What does it mean then?” Duffy asked.

“It means you're loose,” Daniel explained.

Everyone checked the fly on their pants.

“No, not that either!” Daniel said, rolling his eyes.

Ed had folded his arms by now, and was leaning back in his chair, watching the rest of the class come to terms with new and innovative things, such as his _beard_ , in an open air debate which was in the style of the so called 'free thinkers' they were trying so hard to avoid.

“Well, you know the professor; we've all heard _those_ stories by now,” Richard supplied.

“Pop quiz!” Ed yelled.

***

“She eats twice a day, I brought all the little cans. Thank you so much for watching her. This is her mouse; she plays with it before dinner but after lunch. This is her collar, she wears it when she goes outside but when she comes in she likes to relax. I know it's a bit immodest because she is a lady, but what can I do? She likes what she likes. This is her water dish, please change it frequently and always dump out any old water in it before adding fresh water. She doesn't like it mixed. These are her treats, I try to get healthful treats, so I read all the ingredients. These are better than the last ones I tried. I give them to her, but only a few, once a day,” he looked at First Lieutenant Colonel Pharr anxiously.

“It will be fine, Al,” Clayton said, giving him a slap on the back. “She's a cat and she'll do her things, I'll even let her sleep on the bed with me if she wants.”

Al wasn't sure this was any kind of treat for Sophie, but he finally bent over and set her on the floor. She dashed away and slid under Clayton's couch.

“She's just checking the place out,” Clayton placated at Al's distraught look. “Go and have a good time. Come on Al: you've been plotting this for _years_.

“Not years, ok maybe years,” Al said. “Where are you going to put Sophie's box? You'll have to show her where you put it.”

“I'll show her! You're going to be late meeting up with your dream woman worrying over where your cat does her business! Go on already,” Clayton laughed.

“Alright, alright, I'm going,” Al cast one more look toward Clayton's couch before he allowed himself to be ushered out the door.

**

It was a bit of a blow to his burgeoning male ego that Riza had to drive the car. It only reinforced the fact that he still believed everyone thought of him as the twelve-year-old boy he'd once been; and it heightened the fact that his elder brother now supposedly knew how to drive. At least according to Ed.

As the scenery passed, Al let his mind wander back to the last conversation he'd had with his brother before leaving on what he through, _(hoped, dreamed, prayed)_ , would be a life altering experience.

Brimming with all sorts of good news, Ed had taken it upon himself to call and inform his little brother just how exceedingly well his vacation had gone.

“I can drive now,” he crowed into the receiver.

“That's great, brother,” Al congratulated, _(and tried to suppress the surge of jealousy at the satisfaction in Ed's voice)_ , “it sounds like you had a good time.”

“It was fabulous, Roy bought me a car,” Ed added.

“The General brought you a car?” The only mode of transportation the General had ever bequeathed on Al was a bike, and that was ages ago, when he was still a child. “What kind of car?” Al forced out, hoping it didn't sound like an angry hiss. And angry, jealous hiss of the sort he was far too old to be hissing. Why should he be upset? After all, Ed was the General's... boyfriend...husband…something like that. Al hadn't worked it out yet.

“Well... I don't know,” Ed confessed, his voice dropping a bit. “But it's a convertible, it has a back seat and everything.”

“How can you have a car and not know what type it is?” Al asked. “Surely the General let you pick it out, _(I didn't get to pick out my bike)_ , or did you buy the first car you saw? You're very impulsive like that,” Al said, lifting his nose even though Edward couldn't see it.

“It was the car we rented when we were at the lake,” Ed countered. “I didn't bother with the details. I'm sure Roy knows a good car when he sees it. He bought it because he taught me to drive in it.”

“So are you driving it to the academy now?” Al said, because if he didn't keep up the polite conversation he'd hang up and go sulk.

“Well no,” his brother said, “it's not running at the moment. You've read a lot of books on engines; I've only studied rockets. I was hoping you could come visit me and help me out.”

“The General bought you a non-working car? I find that a little hard to believe. I thought you said you learned to drive in it, so it must have been working at some point. What's wrong with it?” Al asked.

“I drove it into the lake,” Ed muttered, “but it totally wasn't my fault.”

“I don't think driving a car into the lake qualifies as knowing how to drive,” Al said, feeling a smile creep over his lips. Really, he was becoming so petty! He should be ashamed of himself. He would make up for it. “I suppose I can come down there in a couple of weeks, I have my own trip planned you see,” now he could launch into his impending dream-vacation details and Ed would be obliged to listen.

“I grew a beard,” Ed cut him off. “Two weeks, do you really have to wait that long? I really wanted to get it up and running. It's just sitting under a tarp in the driveway now. Roy almost ran the sedan into it the other night because he forgot it was there. Did you hear me about the beard? Everyone thinks it's great.”

Al could interpret Ed-on-nese easily enough. What he meant when he said _'everyone thinks it's great'_ was actually _'no one really likes it, or everyone is picking on me. I need you to validate my beard growing talents, because that's what I really called you for'._ He was a bit miffed Ed was jumping on his chance to gush about his own trip, so he sniffled into the phone.

“You with a beard makes me think of Dad,” he said. “In fact, eerily so. You say the General likes it?”

“...I don't look like Dad...hang on.” Al could hear Ed lower the receiver and footsteps moving away quickly. He heard the creak of a door. Ed usually called him from the phone on the bedside table, so the door creak would mean he was going into the adjoining bathroom. There he would look in a mirror and come back and argue with Al on his Dad-like appearance. He heard returning footsteps and the sound of the receiver being lifted again.

“Had to go to the mirror and double check?” Al asked cheerfully.

“Shut up,” Ed hissed. “I'm not wearing it like he wore it, I have it all trimmed to just around my mouth and chin. It looks nothing like his beard did. He was just shaggy and unkempt. I have an appearance to maintain, I am a teacher, you know.”

“I wasn't implying anything, brother,” Al said neutrally. “What does the General say about it?”

“He said it made me look older,” Ed stated.

What _'he said it made me look older'_ really meant was _'I badgered him until he gave in and said what I wanted to hear'._

“Well I'm sorry I can't come down for a bit,” Al said, studying his nails, refusing to stroke his brother's wilting beard ego, “Riza and I are going on a trip.”

“Where are you going?” Ed asked immediately. Not _’Congratulations, you have now reached adulthood and you're dating the woman of your dreams!’_ or _’I'm happy for you Al, it's what you've always wanted!.’_ No, instead, it was Ed the big brother and his _'What? How can you possibly date by yourself? And I should be there to chaperone your every move, because you are still twelve!’_ voice.

“To the country. Riza picked out a nice bed and breakfast,” Al said, his eye twitching.

“Oh, well, that sounds nice. Riza picked it out? How long will you be staying?” Ed asked in a 'politely trying to access the situation and be really nosy' sort of way.

“A long weekend,” Al said vaguely. “Marilyn will be taking care of Hayate for us and Pharr is watching Sophie.” Al would give details; just not any Ed actually wanted to hear.

“Al, you know there is the talk that boys usually have with their fathers,” Ed started a bit lamely. “And while I'm not your father, I am your closest relative and I'm not sure anyone else has had the talk with you.”

He wasn't... _he was!_

“I've already had that talk with First Lieutenant Pharr,” Al rushed out. “And I thought I was going to have it with the General, but he wussed out. “

“Pharr? That womanizing letch gave you the birds and the bees talk?! What was Roy thinking?! When? When did he do it, I swear Al, I'm coming to East City and kicking his ass if he filled your head with crazy-assed ideas! Tell me Al, tell me what he said to you!”

“It's better than having it with my brother!” Al snapped, and then promptly slapped his hand over his mouth.

There was a long silence on the other end.

“It would be embarrassing!” Al tried to reason. “Ed, think about it from the other way around, what if I was trying to give you the sex talk?”

There was more brooding silence for a moment, then a little clearing of the throat.

“Ok,” Ed agreed, “I see where you're coming from.”

Al knew that Ed resented his other life. Not actively or openly; he didn't resent Al, he'd never do that. But all the things he missed, all the times he wasn't there when he imagined Al needed him. Ed didn't forgive himself easily for that. Distance was their enemy now, that Al couldn't be there to see his brother's face, or let his brother see his own. Ed had spent to long looking at his reflection in armor. Al felt guilt about being in the East while his brother was in Central. Ed had given up so much for him.

“As soon as I come back, I'll come out to visit with you for a while, we'll fix your car,” Al said. “I really want to see you drive it.”

“Ok,” Ed said brightly, happy to let Al sidetrack him. “Have a good time while you're there. I guess say ‘hi’ to Riza for me.”

“I will,” Al assured him, smiling.

**

“Ed said to tell you hi,” Al said, causing Riza to turn and look at him. A smile touched her lips and she nodded, turning her attention back to the road.

“I hope he's doing well,” she said. “I'm sure with Roy's venture into politics things can be very hectic for him.”

“He seems to manage ok,” Al shrugged. “He says he can drive now. He even has a car. I'm planning to spend a couple of weeks with him soon.”

“He can drive?” Riza said, her tone neutral, she tightened her grip on the steering wheel.

“I didn't say he could drive well,” Al said with his own small smile, “supposedly the only place he's driven was into a lake. His car no longer works, so I've been appropriated to help him fix it, because you know brother, taking it to a mechanic is like showing throat. If he can't do it himself... he has me do it.”

Riza laughed then and it made his skin tingle.

“I made you an itinerary,” she suddenly said. “It's in the glove box. I know how you like to have things planned out, and while I think it might do us a world of good to be spontaneous, I didn't want you to be caught flat-footed. Take it as a guideline instead of a plan.”

Al opened the glove box, pulling out a small notebook with a neat roadmap folded inside of it. He opened the map up and noted the precise circle and marginal notes that might be places of interest. There was a time schedule duly noted in the journal in her tight script. He snapped it shut and put it back in the glove box.

“Let's try this spontaneous idea you had,” he said. “I know it's a stretch for me, but I'd really like to see if I'm cut out to be impulsive.”

She laughed again and nodded.

“Agreed,” she said. “Start thinking about what sort of place we should stop at for dinner.”

 _Thinking about what sort of place to stop for dinner? But there were so many variables to consider! First and foremost, what would she like to have? And he was caught flatfooted out on the open road in a part of the country he invariably had visited at some point in the past, but never with the thought in his mind to check out the local eateries. He didn't eat at the time and Ed was happy to eat any old thing! What to do for dinner?!_

“This might be harder than I thought,” Al mumbled.

**

“Your highness,” the man at the door bowed graciously and Ling swept past him in a rustle of silk and aroma of jasmine.

Otto closed the door and followed the prince down the front hall of his house. The Prince made the predictable left hand turn into the sitting room, the flopped gracefully into the large and decadent leather chair. He sighed heavily and looked broodily toward the bar.

Otto was an indulgent man, especially in the presence of such fine looking Xingian nobility, so he made his way to the bar and paused with cordial glass in hand.

“It must have been more than a passing fancy for you to still be so very put out by it,” he said causally, then picked up his bottle of very fine cherry liquor and poured a shot.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” the prince said huffily. “I'm merely giving you the honor of a visit. There is precious little to do in this country outside my diplomatic duties. At least you know the proper way to indulge my hedonistic tendencies.”

“Ah, but poaching is still poaching,” the older man smiled. “And it's not as though I blame you, as you just said, I exude hedonism. But your prey was already well trapped before you set your eyes on it. Be content that you might still make a friend of him, all it takes is a respectful distance.”

The prince narrowed his eyes a bit, then flopped his head back and draped his arm across his forehead.

“It's hard not getting my way, I am a prince you know,” he said in his ever practiced whine. “I'm a fine catch. I bring to the table my good looks, not to mention wealth and power and a whole country to bow at your feet. What is not to like?”

Otto came over and offered the glass, and Ling reached up and closed his long fingers around its bulbed shape.

“There now your highness, it's not as bad as all of that,” he reassured, moving to sit on the divan across from where Ling was draped like a silk throw across his best chair. “There will be other alluring conquests quite worthy of the royal glance.”

“But none of them will be _him_ ,” the prince grumbled.

“Do you still visit with him?” Otto asked, enjoying the elegant display of sprawled young male across his chair. “Do the two of you still spar?”

“No,” the prince said sullenly. “I haven't seen him in a while. I thought it best to lay low and let things cool a bit. The General seems an even-tempered sort, but one can never be too careful with fire. And Edward himself made it clear we were to be friends, and nothing but that. He actually gave me an ultimatum, _me_ ,” the prince said, just to clarify what a gross misstep of boundaries Edward had made.

Otto templed his fingers and rested them just under his chin.

“You have to respect his rules, I know, I know, quite troublesome when the commoners get uppity,” he said with a wave of his hand to stall Ling's sudden scowl and opened mouth. “But if you do want to have his friendship, and I think you'd be a fool not to, you have to respect his request. I'm sure he would do you the same courtesy. I honestly think he enjoyed and valued your friendship.”

Ling swirled the liquor in his glass a moment, before touching it to his lips and tilting his head back. He down the shot in a fluid motion, then licked his lips and let the lip of the glass rest against his chin.

“You know,” the prince said slowly, “there is another Elric.”

Otto's eyebrows rose.

“Surely you don't mean Alphonse? Really your highness, you're quite insatiable. I would think it poor sport to make Alphonse the object of your intentions when it's very clear you prefer his brother.”

Ling grinned then, in his easy way, making him look boyish as well as mischievous.

“I don't mean for that, but as a way to get back in Ed's good graces, perhaps,” the prince held up his finger. “The younger Elric is quite interested in pharmacy, the Xingian form of their alchemy. He won't tell me why exactly, but I think I can make an educated guess.”

“And the reason you weren't helping him before?” Otto asked.

“Edward's request, but I think I can put that behind me now,” Ling sat up, swinging his legs off the arm of the chair and putting his feet on the floor. “I think that just the effort might be worth something... and perhaps it's a way to make amends, not that amends need to be made,” he clarified a bit haughtily. “A good faith gesture.”

“Of course,” Otto said, the corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement. The prince missed his friend and wanted him back, but he was too regal of course to come right out and say it.

**

The terror of the first days faded amidst the realization that this might be something more. There was some innocuous charm to this thing when its moments of lucidity were gone. The giggling that erupted from its mouth, the way it sucked on it's sausage like fingers, the way it looked to her with it's tiny black eyes, seemingly pleading for approval.

She'd come to the conclusion it was not human, it couldn't be. Not with its stamina, its appetite, it's very presence. There was something there that was an imitation; but it could be seen that it was faked. It was like fool's gold. The packaging was right but the content was all-wrong.

When she complained of hunger, he brought her food. When she complained of cold, he brought her clothes, when she complained of sleeping under the stars he brought her to a house. He made her wait, there in the back yard; crouching behind a stone birdbath. The birdbath was tall and elegant, it had a large dish shaped like a flower resting atop its pedestal and it was scratchy when she leaded against it. Where she came from, this was a sort of luxury scoffed at; who had money to waste giving birds a bath? It was lunacy how some people foolishly flitted away their money. Her papa often scoffed behind the backs of some of their more affluent customers. It was clear these idiots didn't deserve their money, since they made it off the backs and labor of the working class, such as himself.

As she crouched there in the gathering dark, the stone bird bath picking at the sleeve of her sweater she wondered why she did not run? Why did she not just flee now, while he as there in the house, doing things she's didn't know, _(but perhaps suspected)_. When he appeared in the back door and waved, grinning from ear to ear she jumped up and hurried toward him. She reached for his hand when he extended it and he drew her into the house.

They came in through the back door. There was a little mudroom there, and she glanced at several pairs of rain boots, in varying sizes, all lined up next to the wall. The door of the mudroom led into a kitchen. She released his hand as she walked in, her eyes traveling the clean white lines of the counter. There was a stove there with the type of burners that used gas, not wood, and there was a large icebox. There was a sturdy table, also painted white with a bright splash of blue tablecloth thrown across it. There was a running board and china hutch against the wall behind the table. Inside it were clean, unchipped dishes, all lined up beside one another, like children in their Sunday best lined up for inspection.

“It's alright to be in here?” Luludja said, aware the hem of her skirt was dirty and her shoes were muddy from the all walking they had done.

“No one else is here,” the round man grinned. She pointedly ignored the dark stains on his black clothes. She couldn't tell what they were, and she had no idea what he'd been eating, _(for he'd eat anything)_ , to cause those stains on his lips and around his mouth.

She ventured cautiously to the door of the kitchen and saw a small sitting room there. A large comfortable chair and ottoman dominated one corner of it; there was even a newspaper that had been dropped in the seat of the chair; left there until the owner could return to reclaim his place. There was a desk at the other end; it had a blotter and a pen stand. The carpet on the floor was dark gray.

“Where did they all go? Do they know we are in here?” Luludja asked, stepping into this room, feeling very much an intruder because the room was so personal. It was tailored to the usual occupant of the chair.

“They went away,” the round man said, and rubbed at his large belly. “They don't care who is here now,” he said.

“When they come back, we will get in trouble for being here,” she warned him. Because sometimes he was so much like a child. She didn't feel the need to look out for him, she really didn't, but she would feel bad if she didn't warn him about the consequences of his actions.

“They won't come back,” he told her, “they are never coming back. This house is yours now.”

“Ah, that can't be right, someone is bound to notice,” she said, walking through the room and into the small hallway. There was the front door of the house, on the other side the opening to a much larger living room and a set of stairs leading up. She looked up them for a long moment, then back at the man who trailed her, watching her, looking for praise and approval.

“They aren't upstairs?” she asked, pointing.

He shook his head no.

“You’re sure?” she said, narrowing her eyes a bit.

“I'm sure,” he chortled, then drummed his fingers on his chin. “There were five, but now there are none, I'm sure,” he told her. “I can't smell any more,” he added.

She walked across and looked into the living room. Two couches sat facing one another, a dark wooden table between them. There were lamp tables and doilies, knick-knacks and bookcases. There was a chest with a few toys sitting beside it. There were throw rugs on the floor and real curtains on the windows. There was a large, tall radio, the type she'd only seen in a catalog, sitting placidly under one window, a doily covering it's domed head.

She then steeled herself, clenched her fists and turned to the staircase. She marched up it, and paused to look out the front window at the top of the stairs. She could see the street, the cars and a bike lying at the top of the drive. She looked down the hallway. There were framed pictures hanging and a rub that ran the whole length, right down the middle. The knocks on the doors were glass, but clean and see through. Everything was white and pristine. She moved slowly, paused, and put her hand on the first door knock. She breathed deep for a moment, then turned it and threw it open quickly.

It was a bedroom. There was a bed under the window, it had a pale pink quilt and some pillows with pink embroidery on them, it was a name but she didn't look too closely. There were a few books on the floor, and a notebook. There was a magazine, open and lying next to the books. There were shoes at the foot of the bed and a sweater lying over the back of a chair that sat at a vanity. Luludja backed out and pulled the door closed. The next bedroom had bunk beds and toys. Trucks and ships, soldiers and circus animals. She didn't linger there, but instead fled down the hall. The last room was appropriately adult. A large central bed, dresser and vanity, pictures on the wall, books and magazines on the side table.

To the far side of this room was another room, a walk through into a bathroom. Her curiosity won over and she went there, pausing in the walk through that served as a large closet. She touched the dresses and sweaters there. The fine heavy winter coat, the blouses and silks. Even the shoes lined up on the floor beneath them were all leather and heavy canvas. Her toes pressed against the thin cloth sides of her own shoes; they were still damp, and her toes were cold.

“It's all yours now,” the round man said. “Everything to do with as you please.”

“They'll want it, when they come back,” she said again, her voice no longer quite so convicted.

“They will never come back,” the man said again. “It's all been left for you.”

“Why?” she said, turning to look at him. “Why would they do that? They don't know me, I am nothing here.”

“You said you didn't want to sleep under the stars, and so I got this for you,” the man said. “We may not be here long, but while we are you can sleep in here and this can be your place. What they wanted, it doesn't matter. We are stronger like this; we don't have to be humans. Lust, don't you see? We can have anything, I will give you anything.”

She turned her face from him quickly. He wasn't talking to her anymore, only to what he thought he saw, and what woman who proudly wear the name of such a cardinal sin? When he was like this, she was just stay quiet until the spell would pass, and then he would fall back into his stupor where she preferred he stayed.

She pulled the coat off the hanger and slipped it on. It was thick and warm; it smelled like lavender and was a deep burgundy. She stroked her hand down the front and the back up to the collar. Such a color looked good on her, she knew. She turned from him to continue into the bathroom, there was a full-length mirror there on a stand.

It _did_ look good on her.

The woman could obviously afford a new coat, if she took this one. Just the look of the house was proof enough for that. She'd heard about places like this, from the other girls in her neighborhood. The girls who were maidservants and cooks. The ones who told of the low wages and long hours and the condescending tones of the women whom they worked for. They never got fine coats like this one, no matter how many hours a day they spent in virtual slavery to women who threw money away on stone bird baths.

“Do you like it?” the man said in his little hopeful voice, standing in the doorway of the bathroom, he'd pulled his bowler hat off again and he fingered the brim nervously. Luludja smiled and did a twirl, the tail of the coat floating out around her.

“Yes,” she said. “I like it very much. I like this house.”

“When we go from here, I'll get you a better one,” the man promised.

“Where is it we are going?” she asked, coming to a stop, watching the coat tails settle around her legs.

“Central,” the man answered firmly. “We have to go back there so you can be made again,” he finished.

“Made again?” Luludja asked. “What does that mean?”

“It means we need to find an alchemist,” the man said, then he disappeared from the doorway and Luludja would have followed him if the closet hadn't stopped her again. She let the coat fall off her shoulders to the floor and reached up and closed her hands on a silk blouse. There were so many things to try on; it might take all night.

**

The car whipped off the road with a hard right and came to a stop in gravel parking lot just inches from a wooden post set there to designate a parking space. Both occupants sat still and silent for a moment.

“If this is unsatisfactory we can try further down the road,” the male said finally.

“No, I think this might be the last stop between here and our destination,” the female said. “And they don't serve dinner, they are a bed and _breakfast_ , let's keep that in mind.”

Alphonse Elric sat forward a bit and peered out at the wooden shack with the broken sign. This is definitely not what he would have picked for an evening out with Riza. But at each eatery they had passed, he'd somehow convinced himself there was a better one, just down the road. What if they had stopped at the first one they'd seen, but then seen a better one after they'd gotten back on the road to continue their trip?

This is why spontaneous decision-making was so disastrous. Hadn't he learned anything at all from the examples his brother had set?

Riza undid her seat belt and looked at her hair in the rearview mirror. Al began to pat at his own hair, and then he unstrapped his seat belt and smoothed his shirtfront. They looked at each other for a long moment, before simultaneously reaching for the door handle and opening the car doors at the same time. They both got out and shut the door in sync and their feet made identical crushing sounds on the gravel as they approached the front door of the shack.

To his very much surprise the smell that curled around his nostrils as he reached for the door handle was _delicious_.

Riza gripped his elbow and he turned to look at her.

“I think your spontaneity may have paid off,” she said.

Al pulled the door open, shook his head with a half smile.

“Good or bad, this can't be accredited to me, it was your desperate turn of the wheel that lead us here,” he laughed as they stepped in.

“I was triggered by the loud growling of your stomach,” she returned.

“Is that what that was?” Al returned, “I thought that was the car engine.” He paused, “Ok, that was lame,” he shook his head and nodded at a woman in a white apron who was carrying plates across the room.

“You two just sit anywhere,” she called, “I'll be right with you.”

Al gave a quick look around, then guided Riza over to a booth situated under a window. There were paper menus on the table, curled on the corners and spotted with grease and possible samplings of the meals. He glanced up and saw Riza scanning the menu she had picked up, curling her upper lip a bit as she read. It was... adorable. Not the mention the fact that her hair was down, and had been so for the entire trip.

He'd been too wrapped up in planning how to be spontaneous to appreciate the car trip fully. Leave it to him to detail the enjoyment right out of a thing. Maybe Winry was right, he _was_ to anal.

It was decided, _(mostly by Riza)_ , that they would have fried steak and vegetables, but when the waitress came, Riza nudged Al beneath the table with her foot and it prompted him to order for both. They pushed the menus aside then and sat facing each other, just like they'd often done in her office. But here they were on equal terms and there was no blue fabric shield of protocol to follow.

“I'm really glad we decided to do this,” he started nervously, lacing his fingers together as his hands rested on the tabletop. “I think this will be better for us in the long run. I mean getting away from everyone where we can concentrate on each other. I know there are probably some residual doubts you have, and I hope to take this opportunity to put them to rest.”

He studied the tabletop hard. That was to formal, wasn't it? He was talking to a potential lover, not writing up a proposal for funding. No matter how determined he was, he always got in his own way. He thought too much. That was his problem. He just thought himself right into neat little ruts, and when he tried to get out of the ruts, he realized he'd worn them so low that the walls where just too high for him to climb. And so he would sit, in the bottom of his rut, stewing and wondering if he'd ever make his way out. Riza probably considered him hopelessly dull. He would consider _himself_ dull if he were forced to spend hours on end with him. Ed never said he was dull, but Ed was his brother, and biased in these matters. Ed figured, because of the blood relationship he had no choice but to endure Al's dullness, because that was how families worked. Ed was obsessed with family togetherness, sometimes a little too much.

When he dared to glance up, Riza was smiling at him. A funny little smile, and he quickly rifled though his flip chart of Riza facial expressions and came up blank. He was too busy trying to decipher what this smile might mean; it could mean any number of things. His overwhelming dullness had made her catatonic! He was being a simpering twelve-year-old; she was thinking how hilarious it was going to be to lower the boom on him and tell him she was doing this to save him the humiliation of dumping him at the office. He startled when she reached over the table and laid her hands on top of his.

“Alphonse, we're here to enjoy ourselves, yes?” she said. “I appreciate and understand what you are saying, I even agree with you on the need for us to concentrate on each other,” she rubbed her thumbs over the backs of his hands. “I am touched that you are trying so hard to please me. But I want you to enjoy yourself, too. How are we to truly get to know one another if one of us is so afraid to be themselves? I think it's presumptuous of me, but I think I can guess some of your fears. I thought I had been demonstrating that some of them are groundless. I'll just try a little harder. We have three days ahead of us, let's make the most of them together.”

He nodded, looking at the way her hands covered his. So, some of his fears were groundless. He really wished she would elaborate on which ones. It would be so much easier for the checklist in his mind if he actually knew what he could check off. He was interrupted as the food arrived. The matter of eating was nothing. He was an Elric, after all, and there were family standards to uphold. They were both eager to be back underway, so the stop was made brief, because the car was also a good place to talk.

“I hear there is a farm nearby that rents horses and has an extensive riding trail,” Riza said after the tires were firmly back on the highway. “I imagine I'm rusty, I haven't ridden for some time; but I thought that might be fun,” she glanced over at him. “Have you ridden before?”

The truth of the matter was, he had. Though not in the usual style. When he was armor, he had ridden horses. He'd fallen off, or been dumped off. Once he was rubbed off against a tree. But it wasn't any struggle for him to get back on the horse. The old adage, 'if you fall off a horse, you get right back up', didn't quite apply to him; because when he fell off of horses... _it didn't hurt._ So yes, he'd ridden a horse, only somehow he felt he'd cheated.

“I've ridden before,” he said. “Ed and I sometimes rode on rented horses between towns. Once we hired a cart and I drove,” this was a bit of pride for him.

“Oh good,” Riza said. “Then let's do that, I think it will be relaxing and a good way to take in some of the countryside.”

“We'll definitely do that,” Al said. “Also star gazing, do you like to star gaze? I love to star gaze. I picked it up when brother and I use to travel a lot. I read extensively on the subject as well. I can show you all the constellations. It's a good time of year, the bit of crisp in the air makes them all the brighter.”

“I'd like that,” she said. And sincerely, she would. It wasn't lost on her that Alphonse might indeed know more about stars than even the most skilled astronomer. He had many years of being awake when the rest of the world slept, with only the night sky as a companion.

“I think our turn off is up here,” Al suddenly said, a tinge of excitement in his voice. He was unfolding the map and tracing the route that she had highlighted with his finger. It would be good to be there. It would be the official beginning to what would hopefully be the rest of their lives. It startled her to think of it in those terms; but that is how it had come to be in her mind. She had to know, and soon, how the rest of her life was to be played out. It was ironically enough, Alphonse’s own hesitant confessions and eager courting that made her realize she had a rest of her life.

It was time she went about living it.

 

**

 

Edward grinned as he leaned into the door, and then held it open for the General to pass. It was a pub. A small, slightly dingy, dim interiored place that was packed wall to wall. The buzz of conversation ruffled Ed's bangs as he stepped in behind the General and he couldn't help the pricking up his spine as they made their way toward the crowded bar.

Occasionally Havoc could talk the General into anything.

It's not as if the General wouldn't indulge him in a bit of elbow rubbing with the populace if Ed were to ask, it was just more likely he'd try to sweet-talk Ed out of it. And it always worked!

 _Yes, the Spitting Serpent Tavern sounds like an adventure, but I was rather hoping for something a bit more intimate; we rarely get to go out anymore. You know, something with a terrace and good wine..._

Damn stupid romance. He was ruined.

Gone were the days of swinging his fists wildly while his eyes were tightly shut. Gone were the days of Al's shrill apologies, even as he’d flatten some bozo aiming a bar stool at Ed's head. Gone were the days of being thrown out of the bars before he could pick a good fight, because he was _underage_.

The General pushed in between the instigator of this venture and the instigator's trusted henchman.

“General!” Havoc grinned, “Glad you could make it.”

“We don't get to see you much outside the office anymore,” Breda added, then looked at Ed, as if this was somehow his fault.

“Gentlemen, you know how it is. I have a home now and responsibilities. One of us has to be the role model now that Hawkeye is gone,” the General grinned smoothly, then signaled the bartender.

Breda kept giving Ed the eye and Ed squared his jaw and jutted his chin out.

“What are you looking at?” he challenged, then shoved into the space between Roy and Jean and resisted going on his tiptoes.

“Nuthin', but I know what's coming,” Breda then turned his eye on Havoc. “It won't be too much longer before _you_ got 'responsibilities’ and it will be _me_ in the bar _alone_.”

Havoc snorted and lifted his half full beer mug.

“Not likely,” he said. “She respects I need my guy time, just like she needs her girl time. It won't change at all.”

“Wait a minute,” Ed said, “am I being compared to Sarah?”

“I'm just saying,” Breda continued, insistent on digging his grave, “that every guy says this. ‘Nothing will change just because I got some chick...’”

“Chick?” Ed snarled.

“Heymans,” the General interrupted loudly. “Let me buy you a beer.”

“But still, it changes. Suddenly they can't go out and get a beer after work, or they can't go to the track on the weekends, or they can't even come and play poker with someone they've known a hell of a lot longer than the piece of ass they got in their bed. It's just pitiful, and you are heading down that road,” Breda pointed at Havoc. “She's tasty and she's got you by the nuts, I already see it coming, you're gonna be just like the General.”

The General then said: “Please don't kill a member of my staff.”

Ed was trying to climb up on the bar so he could get around Roy, but Havoc grabbed him by the waist before he got halfway up. The General backed himself in front of Breda and spread his arms.

“I'll have to die for him,” the General pleaded. “It's in my nature to protect my staff, no matter how badly they need to be pounded into a greasy puddle. If you'll forgive him this once I'll get him sensitivity training!”

“He won't need any training, in fact you're gonna have a surplus on your payroll,” Ed howled. “It ain't ME that keeps you from doin' whatever the hell you want! I'm all for it! Wanna go swilling beer every night, be my fuckin' guest! Let me have five minutes with him, no make it three! I just wanna explain a few things, that's all, I won't kill him much!”

The General looked over his shoulder at Breda and the man shrugged.

“What? I was just sayin',” Breda said.

The General considered stepping out of the way.

Havoc turned Ed, backed him against the bar and shoved his beer mug under his nose.

“Here, drink a lot of this,” he told Ed as Ed tried to push the beer mug away and drain it at the same time. “It always makes you feel better, and if you have enough of it, you won't give a damn about what anyone says. When are you going to lose that beard?”

Roy reached over then and upended the end of the mug. Ed probably got as much beer through his nose as his mouth at that point.

**

He carried the suitcases up the stairs and tried not to watch her walking just ahead of him. His eyes seemed to rivet to one spot, between her upper thighs and lower back and no matter how much he protested they would not look away once fixed.

He supposed the room was nice, and he heard Riza make some exclamation about it. She sounded pleased and that made him happy. But now, his mind had strayed to the edge of the desirable, yet forbidden territory of the 'Riza Hawkeye' fantasy.

All this chatting about going out doing things that he could not for the life of him remember right now; were they really necessary? They could just spend the entire three days in this room. After all, they would not starve in three days, they would be occupied and he would be... dead, probably. But the manner of his demise would only heightened the glorious legend; the one he'd already painstakingly penned in his ‘Riza Journal,’ _(yes, he kept one, just like he kept a journal for his other observations. After all: she was the subject of many internal discussions he had with himself, and he had to keep his notes somewhere)_.

He heard his name from a distant place. A place where there was no alluring woman in a uniform jacket and mini-skirt, _(oh my Pirate, you were so, so right)_ , who was beckoning him with a sweet and savage smile and saying something in a coy tone about 'breaking in the bed'. He frowned a little, wanting to block out this other voice, but it was suddenly accompanied by a touch, _(and the touch was not long, slender pale digits working the buttons his pants, but a rather normal touch on his shoulder)_.

He turned to see Riza looking at him, one side of her mouth quirked up and her eyebrow half raised on the opposite side. If she called him 'sailor', 'sport' or 'stud' at this moment, his head would explode. No, he meant it: he would damn well explode. All the talk leading up to this moment, this meeting, this place where they would _tryst_ , _(and OH how he loved that word. That noun...an appointment to meet at a certain time and place, especially one made somewhat secretly by lovers... to tryst, trysting, use tryst in a sentence! I want Riza to_ tryst _all over me! YES, my god, what a word!)_ , that was _nothing_ compared to the moment of actually _being_ there.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her tone seemed amused and Al wondered; was he alright?

“I don't know,” he confessed honestly. “I mean here we are, we're here. We talked about it, we planned it, we got in a car and drove all the way out here and now all I can think about is staying right here in this room.”

When Al was candid, he pulled no punches. He gave her such a lovely baffled look, and it was almost impossible to keep her hands off of him. Yes, she was entertaining the same ideas, how could she not? In their, long and leisurely courtship, there has only been one instance to date where she had gotten a taste of him. It had left her hungry. Starving if she wanted to be melodramatic; but it was there, a constant niggling reminder of what she could have, if only she could _pin him down._ Not that she was one to talk. To break years of self-conditioning was not something that was going to happen over night. Yes, logically she knew Al was not: 1. Her subordinate any longer, 2. As young as he looked, nor 3. Experienced in intimate matters.

To say she was intimidated at first was a mild understatement. Yes, she was use to taking charge. She'd lived her whole life based on the fact she had more common sense than most anyone else around her. Conceited? True. A proven fact? Yes. But there were some matters that should simply not be by rote. There should be the special situations where all protocol and decorum was tucked away in a nice out of the way nook if not heaved bodily out the window.

Roy had been good at this. She knew it was extremely unreasonable and unfair to Alphonse to give him such a model to measure up against. But in reality, Roy had been, at one time, her most sought after goal. She believed in him, _(and she still did)_ , despite himself. And she would not deny that she resented Edward, once upon a time, because to deny hard facts was to fall into delusion, and that was something a leader could not afford to do. She only wished that Roy had instilled some of his aggressiveness in the more intimate matters into Alphonse. He's practically raised Alphonse after the boy's return to Central, and had made it a point to be part of his everyday life. How could Alphonse be around such a strong and unrelenting personality and not absorb any of his traits?

Alphonse must have had an innate immunity to such things. It wasn't hard to see that, once it was remembered who Alphonse's elder brother was. Still, she remembered the office talk of the 'passing of the little black book', and she knew that Alphonse had been deemed the inheritor, _(much to Havoc's despondent flailing)_.

“I'm messing this up, aren't I?” Al's voice suddenly broke her from her reverie.

No, this would not do. Alphonse was no longer the boy who trailed her to the file room, saying how he was happy to help. He was no longer the smiling face in his brother's coat, or the boy her office staff doted on whenever they thought she wasn't looking.

He was a man, and he was to be her lover. She would give this every opportunity because it was right, and fair...and she wanted it. She wanted him in a way that surprised even her.

So Alphonse had to be taught to be more...assertive. She didn't think he could handle aggressive, and if she were to suggest it he might get all flustered. So assertive would do for now.

“There is nothing to mess up, Alphonse, because neither of us have been here before,” and by that she did not mean the location. He understood, he nodded slightly and smiled a little. She tried to make herself look, well, inviting. But she wasn't quite sure how to accomplish this. Teaching assertion in rank or on the battlefield seemed a much less daunting task.

“Do you remember the chicken?” she asked him suddenly.

“Chicken?” Al said, eyes glazing over. He loved chicken now. Roasted chicken that was slightly over done, a bit dry and had almost blackened skin. With dry, over cooked potatoes and shriveled carrots and Riza's tongue down his throat for the first time. He remembered the chicken, oh yes.

“Good,” she said and moved closer to him. There, perhaps that little bit of a reminder would get him going again. She watched his eyes travel from her own, to her chin then lower and she watched his cheeks heat to a charming pink. He clenched and unclenched his hands a bit, but they remained stubbornly at his side.

“Eating chicken has become something of a special occurrence for me,” she prodded. “Sometimes it's best if I avoid it in mixed company.”

“I make you think of chicken?” he said in such a hopeful way. She had to encourage him, and keep the amused smile off her face at the same time.

 _You make me aware of the things I want._

“I suppose that is a joke between us,” she said, and how that made her smile. She'd never had a place in her like this to share before.

 _You make me aware of the things I need._

“Riza... I had all these grand things to say, all these plans. You know me, I had my whole strategy mapped out, but it can't be like that, can it?” he asked, meeting her eyes.

 _You make me aware of myself, like no has ever done before._

This young man, standing before her with his heart on his sleeve and his soul in his eyes; he always wore his soul there. For a long time it was the only way he could still feel part of this world and his life. How many times had she looked into them and had never seen what she need to see; what he wanted her so desperately to see.

“Alphonse...”, but that was all she got to say. Because he took a breath and a step forward and then his lips were warm against hers. She allowed her eyes to slide closed, because here, finally, is where she could let go.

His hands were moving on her back, in circles, starting out small and growing in radiance. She opened her mouth to him, hoping he took the initiative. He always exceeded expectations. His tongue stroked the roof of her mouth, and he shuddered then, swallowed hard. He had the book knowledge, but not the experience yet; he was trying not to gag himself. As absurd as it seemed it endeared him all the more at that very moment.

She stroked her hands slowly, up and down his sides. A move to encourage him, but nothing overt at the moment. This was to be Alphonse moment. This was to be his aspiration, his inspiration, and his triumph. She wanted to give these things to him as much as she wanted to become what she didn't know she had wanted.

And that was something precious.

His rubbing pulled at her shirt and after a moment, he bunched his fingers into it and pulled up. She felt the fabric of her shirt pull free from her pants. The motion of the cotton over the skin between the waistband and her pants was all the more erotic because of the perpetrator of the deed. He moaned a little, into her mouth, and she felt his fingers brush her skin, lightly, on the small of her back. Now it was her turn and she smoothed her hands around his waist, flattened her palms against his back and pulled him closer, molding her body against his frame. The shiver that ran through him charged into her own flesh, making her tingle, making each brush of his hand, each sway of her freed shirttails against her own flesh, a catalyst.

She turned her head, to free his mouth, to take in his sounds; but in reality she was hungry. She had been starving, and her mouth moved over his cheek to the side of his neck. She reached up to pull his shirt collar down. His hands shot up her back, _under_ her shirt and his fingers came up against the strap of her bra. They paused there, pushing and testing and he tilted his head to the opposite side.

She tugged his collar hard, finally able to get her fingers to the button and nudge it open. She then hooked her fingers in the collar of his undershirt and pulled it down; extending her tongue to the divot in his throat. His Adams apple worked, brushing the top of her nose.

“Riza,” he said, soft and husky and rushed. No one said her name like that. No one had ever dared; but she wanted it, she wanted it from him.

His second button gave way, and then his third. His undershirt was pristine and still smelled of the sizing that new shirts were doused in to keep them stiff and unwrinkled in their packaging. She let herself have a dizzy, heady moment that his boxers would be brand new as well. He was really more than she was prepared to handle and everything she'd ever wanted if only she had known it.

He broke his own spell of immobility, the one he had fallen under when her tongue touched his skin. He began to work her shirt up, boldly, without even asking if it was alright. She regretted having to lift her head away, and then her arms to allow him to pull it free. He started to drop it on the floor, then caught himself and stretched to put it over the back of the chair sitting at the writing desk near the door. All these things that made him who he was, all these details that spoke of him and his reverence would be her undoing.

She couldn't get her hands back to his shirtfront fast enough. His buttons were a matter of annoyance now and she tugged impatiently. He looked down, then hastily grabbed his own shirttail and yanked it out of his pants. He started at the bottom and their hands met in the middle and then his shirt was off his shoulders and hanging at his elbows. Riza herself took the pleasure of yanking his undershirt up and then flattening her palm on his bare stomach.

She felt his stomach jump under the hand, felt the ripple of muscle that traveled in a wave toward his sternum and she heard his hissed intake of breath. It was like a symphony, the movement and the air around them like their own music. His breath the melody, his movements the harmony, and her hand the conductor.

But he didn't want a solo, he wanted a duet. She felt his hands on her shoulders, felt the pull of her skin as the straps of her bra moved. She felt the light slap of fabric against her upper arm when they were pushed aside and then his arms were around her again, his hands sliding up her back again.

She indulged herself, pushing his undershirt up, pressing herself to his half-bared chest, listening to his soft grunts as he tried to figure out the mystery of the modern bra.

“How do you...?” he began, but then he looked down and saw her ever-baring cleavage and was struck momentarily mute.

“It stretches,” she cajoled him. “It's easier if you push the ends toward each other, it has a little hook and eyelet.” She wanted to help him and she wanted him to do it himself. He could make her feel so contradictory. That in itself made her wet.

Al continued to work it. The feel of the bra rubbing back and forth against her back, pulling at her breasts and then sagging forward as he snorted with frustration, was tantamount to fire. She couldn't help it, her hands slid down to his butt, she cupped each cheek, then pulled him against her, grinding her groin to his. His throaty almost wail of surprise and the hardness of his erection against her mon was bliss.

He was hard, he was hard for her. He gave a little whimper and she squeezed his butt cheeks and refused to help him with her bra. Alphonse Elric was a grown up now, that was all she needed to know. He was a grown up, with a grown up man’s needs, desires and wants. She was a desire and want, and she wanted to be a need. She wanted him to need her so desperately that he would chew through her bra strap. He could turn her around, shove he down on the bed and simply bite though the hooks and eyelets in lust. She groaned at the image as it lay wantonly across her mind and she slid up against him again.

Somewhere in this overwhelming state she'd come to be in, this place where he had put her, she realized the absurdity of these thoughts. But she didn't care, because she had found the man who could give her exactly what she wanted – freedom from rational. It was inconceivable, she supposed, that she would be with him in the first place. There was the age difference, the rank difference _(not such a problem now that he was retired)_ , the very fact she'd know him since he was a boy of eleven. In fact, she'd know him _twice_ at that age.

This was about letting everything to do with your reservations slip right through your fingertips. Like intoxication, it was the impairment of all reason, but far more sweet, far more seducing. His lips were suddenly on her shoulder, working there. She could hear him complaining about her bra in soft tones, and he was now looking over her shoulder and down her back.

She had to touch him, she shouldn't have to wait.

She released one butt cheek and shoved that hand between them. They were pressed so closely together for a moment she had a hard time turning her arm, so just the back of her hand was wedged up against his cock. He sputtered and tried to press closer, which made it even harder to get her hand turned around so she could palm and appreciate his cock appropriately.

“Al, let's...ah move to the bed, Al? Are you listening?” she asked.

But despite his brilliance, he overwhelming ability of observation and his incredible attention to detail, he was in this respect, like any other man. He started to thrust against the back of her hand.

She was rather upset he'd given up on her bra, and trying to turn and maneuver him across the room wasn't as easy as it seemed. He made it difficult, but he was so adorable as he did it. He hooked his chin over her shoulder, as if this could pull her even closer than his arms were already doing. She tried to take a step back and he made a choked sound of anguish and moved forward to keep their bodies pressed close together. It caused her to half stumble, and they both teetered for a moment before they caught their balance again.

“Let's move to the bed,” he said as they clung to each other in the wake after the near fall.

“I think that's a good idea,” she said, because really, Al should be encouraged.

Instead of releasing her, he just walked her backwards. When the back of her knees touched the mattress, she tightened her hold on him and just fell backwards. The weight of him on top of her was brief, because he recovered himself quickly and was able to get his hands on the bed to brace himself before he bounced on her a second time.

“It's so much better than when I dreamed this,” Al said and she felt her chest tighten and her breath hitch. “My fantasies do you no justice,” he shyly confessed.

“I'm glad to know you thought about me,” Riza told him, her stomach twisting in knots. Why could he do this to her? Render her so helpless with only a few words, a few simple touches? She wanted to surrender, she wanted to give in; she was scared but she was determined.

Al was as frightening a thing as she'd ever faced.

“I have thought about you since I've known you,” he said and smiled. There was no way he could know how his simple honesty laid waste to all her defenses. “I've always thought about you, I just never though you would want this... I mean with me. “

“I will admit that it's a surprise; to both of us,” she began to rub his sides again, slowly up and down. “I had doubts, but you know that. I think I'm past them now.”

“Good,” the smile could have lit a city block. “I just want to be good to you. I just want to make you happy,” he lowered himself as he said it and she tilted her head back and parted her lips. She would have never applied the terms 'defenseless' or 'vulnerable' to herself; in fact, she would be the first to challenge anyone against such a gross misconception.

But when his lips visited hers only briefly; when they broke away to trail over her chin and down her offered throat; when they traveled lower and the tip of a nose traced the edge of the bra Alphonse had failed to remove; she wasn't sure what to think. What term could describe this feeling of being laid bare and unguarded? There was nothing like lying to yourself.

She actually jumped when his tongue touched her, tracing the same path his nose had. She felt his fingers then, how they skimmed the edge of her bra and then gently began to nudge it down. Her nipple, already peaked and sensitive reacted by shooting waves of electricity straight to her crotch when he pulled the fabric over it.

He made a small sound when he uncovered her breast. It was like surprise and curiosity and she reflexively bit her lip and curled her fingers against his sides in alarm when he dragged his tongue over the very tip of her. To be something she was craving, it was so unexpected. He flattened his tongue for the next stroke, pressing her nipple upwards and then sweeping his tongue all the way over the swell of her breast.

Her fingers worked nervously against his sides, but she caught herself, and thanked some of her practicality for saving her, _(and damning it for not just letting her abandon herself to the moment)_ , and she moved her fingers where they would be more productive; his belt and the button of his trousers.

He closed his mouth over her then; his lips pressing the sides of her nipple, his tongue nudging the tip. His eyes slid shut as he started to suck.

But she couldn’t close her eyes. His face was half obscured by his soft dark blond bangs and he kept raising and lowering his eyebrows. She was so riveted that she had his belt undone and his pants open, that it took many long moments before she remembered why she had unfastened them in the first place. But it felt so good, and the temptation to just spread herself out for his leisurely pleasure was almost unbearable. But her hunger burned.

She pushed at the elastic of his boxers. The fabric, as she predicted, felt scratchy and new under her fingers. She got her hands inside his pants on either hip, and as she used her fingers to push his under garments down, the backs of her hands helped his trousers along as well. His balanced on his other hand now, and he reached up and dragged her bra down. Though it was still fastened around her, it now bunched under her exposed breasts. He laid his palm over her unattended one and the flesh of his palm spiked pleasure in that nipple as well.

When her palm slid over his cock and he bucked with an involuntary sound, but didn't release her from his mouth, she knew that she was conquered. She stroked his entire length, cupped her fingers over his balls for a moment, letting them rest in her hand. He squirmed and whined. She slowly dragged her fingers back up before wrapping them just under the head of his cock, stroking the pad of her thumb over the tip. He was hot and sticky and it couldn't have been more of a compliment. He made strangled sounds and his suckling became ravenous as she handled him.

She cupped the back of his head with her free hand, and he released her then, looking up at her. His hips jerked and he pressed his face into her throat, just under her chin. She let him hide there, but only for a moment, before tucking her chin down to make him pull back. He was breathing hard. She moved her hand from the back of his head to his cheek and he turned his face into it, licking at her palm before kissing it; his hips jerked again.

She was a little surprised when he reached between them and covered her hand with his own, curling his fingers over her and pulling it away. He groaned as if the effort cost him dearly and she knew in that moment she loved him in the way she needed to love her lover.

“I'm so close already, just from that,” he begged her. “I don't want...I've read romance novels,” he got out in a rush. “I try not to let that mix with the reality of human sexuality I've read about, but I can't help it. I want this to be like those books, all heated and perfect, but I know, if I don't stop you now; I'll be embarrassed and you'll be unsatisfied,” he bit his lip and pleaded with her with his eyes.

She wanted to eat him alive.

She spoke not with words, but with motion. She sat up, pushing him back and he stood on the floor then, between her spread legs. His pants were low on his thighs and his cock was prominent; angling up from a thatch of dark curls toward his stomach. She thought she wouldn't mind being unsatisfied if she got the satisfaction of watching him writhe under her hands, to fell his cock jerk and throb as he came in her mouth; but no, this was Al's victory and she was the spoils of his conquest. She would do things his way.

His eyes were fixed firmly on her breasts, then he seemed to notice this and hastily pulled them back to her face.

“Can..can you take your bra off?” he asked with pink cheeks.

She immediately obeyed. She reached around to undo it, but his frantic attempts to relieve her of it had left the trap all twisted. She grunted in frustration and looked at him and almost laughed out loud at his look of vindication.

“Why are they so complicated to remove?” he muttered.

Again she let actions speak for her. She got her bra off, held it up to show it to him before letting it drop on the floor between them. Then she reached up, grabbed his pants at his hips and pulled them down to his knees. She leaned over as she did it and his cock practically leapt at her, resting on her forehead before he sputtered and stumbled back. He almost fell over, hopping around to get his pants the rest of the way off; and then there he stood in a slightly wrinkled new t-shirt and his socks and nothing else.

She noticed they were both without shoes and Al's dress shirt was gone. When did that happen, and why didn’t she care? She started to undo her own belt and he made a sound of protest and came over to her. So she flopped back on the bed and he set his jaw and managed to get her belt undone. He tugged it off of her, tossing it triumphantly over his shoulder. Next, he plucked nervously at her trousers before sucking in his bottom lip and undoing them. But being as they were women's trousers, and not men's, they had an extra catch he was unfamiliar with. He struggled with it for a few moments, before whining in frantic irritation.

“This isn't fair,” he sobbed. “It's not like I spent my formative years sealed in steel; why wasn't that enough for you?” he appealed to the ceiling.

Riza took pity and reached down to help him. He leaned over and kissed her hands as she did it, then when she got them open his kissed her bare stomach once or twice as he worked them down. Riza raised her legs for him and he merrily shucked her trousers off and gave them a casual toss. It was nice to see that impending sex made Al less of a tight-ass, too.

He reached down and pulled his socks off and then he gave her a most lovely vista of his body, stretching upwards as he pulled his t-shirt off over his head. They were almost there, Al was naked now and Riza only had on her panties. Al licked his lips, his fingers actually twitched and Riza put her heels on the bed, ready to lift her hips to help him get them off.  
He looked at her, then back to her panties. He licked his lips again and then did it as one rushed motion. She barely had time to get her hips up before the undergarments were around her ankles and off.

It was done: they were alone together, naked, and one of them was on a bed.

**

“She's taken him off into the country to make a man of him,” Ed sobbed into the bottom of the fourth beer mug that had been thrust into his hand.

“AL'S GOING TO BE A MAN,” Havoc and Breda sobbed together.

“He's all grown up now, he doesn't need me anymore,” Ed slobbered.

“AL'S GROWN UP NOW, WHAT WILL WE DO?” Havoc and Breda commiserated, throwing their arms over each other’s shoulders.

Roy was fairly certain Alphonse would not be pleased his most important male rite of passage was being shouted drunkenly by Ed and the dork twins across a crowded tavern. At least no one was trying to kill each other. It was amazing what slights a man would forgive if you got him shit-faced enough.

“Wait a minute, this isn't a time to be all sad and shit,” Havoc reasoned, then burped. “Al's getting some, go Al!” he waved his beer mug around and doused Breda's shirtfront. Breda grunted then lifted his shirt to smell it, then went back to drinking his own beer.

Ed laid his cheek on the table, and then turned big, pitiful eyes on Roy.

“Don't look at me, I'm on the ‘Al's-getting-some-go-Al-woot’ team,” Roy told him, arms folded over his chest.

“It's not that I'm unhappy,” Ed slurred. “I think it's great. Now he'll go off and be happy, that's the happy ending, right? Yeah, that's good shit, that's what I want for him...and kittens,” Ed rubbed his cheek against the scarred wood of the table, making it rock back and forth slightly.

Havoc reached over and pounded Ed on the back like he was trying to put out a fire that had started there.

“Don't be sad,” Breda cajoled. “The Colonel is one nice piece of ass, ask the General, he knows. Al will be yodeling to the rafters. I'd almost be jealous if the woman didn't make my balls pull up into my body every time she walked by,” Breda then drained his mug.

“The General cheated on me,” Ed slurred. “He cheated on me with _her_ , and now she's got my baby brother in her clutches. Did she make you do it at gun point?” Ed asked, looking at Roy again but not bothering to lift his head.

“I'm so glad you won't remember this in the morning,” the General said, studying his nails.

Havoc and Breda both gave gasps of shocked disbelief. “He cheated on you?” Havoc said, then he made a mournful sound and looked at Roy like Roy had just kicked several puppies he'd had lined up in a row for his kicking pleasure.

“That bastard,” Breda wheezed, _(never mind said ‘bastard’ was sitting right here listening to every word)_ , “He found something else when he had you at home? You're too good for him,” Breda nodded, and then seemed to get distracted by a stain on the table. It amazed Roy that not half an hour ago Ed was the villain for keeping Roy from going on these little soirees. Considering this was how they typically went, Roy rather thought Ed was a hero.

Roy then noticed Ed had fallen asleep and quickly jumped on the opportunity to make a break for it.

“Ed's passed out, I get to go home now,” the General said with a certain amount of glee. He got up and pulled Ed upright, then onto his feet, and then finally just over his shoulder.

“Got him drunk just so he could take him home and take advantage of him,” Havoc said in a very loud, conspiratorial whisper to Breda.

“Typical maneuver for the big guy, as much as I admire him, he can be real scum,” Breda nodded.

“You two _do_ realize I'm standing right here,” Roy said.

“Ed could have had anyone he wanted,” Havoc continued, “but it seems he's a poor judge of character.”

“You know how it is, someone pays a little attention to you, makes you feel like the top of the world, then you get all dependant on them and they think they can lead you around by the nose,” Breda supplied.

“I'm right here,” Roy said again, shifting Ed a bit on his shoulder. “I'm standing right here.”

“I never pegged Ed for the co-dependant type,” Havoc said, finishing up his own mug. “He sort of seemed hyper-independent if you ask me.”

“What the hell with the big words? Stop it already. Damn woman of yours putting ideas in your head and shit,” Breda snorted.

“WHAT? You don't say nothing about my woman!” and Havoc jumped on Breda. Breda yelped and fell over and then they started to fight and the table fell over with them. The General left with Ed over his shoulder before the cops arrived.

There would be a lot of begging, and he did mean a _lot_ , before he bailed anyone out of jail the next morning.

**

When he first remembered himself and he realized that he wore flesh again, even though he knew he wore flesh again, he wanted to drown himself in sensation. All sensation, good or bad, weak or strong. He was glad of the indulgence of those around him as he tasted, smelled, and felt everything in his path. The world was rich and alive and he was reborn into it; his exploration was endless in those first days when he came back to himself.

Now, the way her skin rebounded to his fingertips was wonder. The very texture and scent coming from her skin threatened to overwhelm him. He watched the muscles in her neck tighten and relax when he touched her in certain ways. She was an experience he intended to chronicle in his mental journal in the most minute of detail.

Beneath him, on the bed, was the woman he loved. Yes, he loved her, he knew this to be a fact. He would tell her, but she had just come to him like this after overcoming her own doubts. She was as reborn into this, as he once was into flesh. She needed time before the next revelation.

When he and Ed had tried to... when they had done what they did; he had studied the female anatomy in it's every detail. Internal and external, function and purpose. He could easily recite every molecule she was made of; he could know her in her most base elements. He could name the bones that made up her frame and specify which organs she could live without. This was his knowledge of a woman, and despite he had once penned a paper on female anatomy, he knew nothing about women.

His close acquaintances, Granny and Winry, were, as he knew, family. He couldn't compare any interaction he had between them as a basis on how to act with a woman. Not that they weren't women, _(he would never intentionally insult either of them, and he apologized profusely to his mental homages of them)_ , but his behavior with them would not be a good example of behavior with women _outside_ of his family. Like Riza, for instance. But then again, right now he was getting along splendidly with Riza. So well, in fact, that she was about to let him do what all men wanted to do with women since the dawn of time.

Except his brother, who always had to do things the hard way.

“Stop thinking,” she said to him, looking up at him from the sheets.

“What?” Al asked, baffled.

“Stop thinking, Alphonse. This isn't the time or place for it, this is where we feel,” she told him.

He stilled for a long moment, absorbing her words and just the sound of her voice.

 _Stop thinking, just feel._

Could he do it?

 _That would be spontaneity, wouldn't it?_

That is what he wanted.

 _Stop thinking._

She grabbed his hand, slid it over her stomach and pushed it between her legs. She even tightened her thighs against his wrist.

All thought left his body.

The curls between her legs weren't soft, like the hair on her head. They were almost the same shade, however, not that it mattered. His fingers encountered moisture and when he probed at it, she made the most breathy little gasp and it shot straight to his cock. His fingers sank inside her body and he shook with amazement.

This was sex. This is how it was suppose to be; two people sharing their bodies for the purpose of pleasure. It was natural and Al though it should come naturally. But here on the cusp of his final hurdle into adulthood, he trembled with hesitation. He could feel her, warm and slick on his fingers, she throbbed, inside, and it made his stomach quiver and his cock bounce.

Here was his chance, his moment, his _dream_. He knew all about dreams, he'd experienced them often. He'd seen them come to fruition. The very flesh he caressed her with was a dream spanning many years. It was a dream he shared, with his brother, it was the reality of what he lived now.

Dreams did come true.

And here, again, there was a dream to share. A dream of a life, and love, and companionship. A dream to be together with someone else who had come to be as close to his heart as anyone could possibly get, _(and not be named Ed)_.

He heard her take a breath, perhaps she was opening her mouth to speak; but he didn't want her words, he wanted her lust. He wanted the sensations he dreamed about when he towered over the rest of humanity. When he was unfeeling and above them, when he longed to join them and have all there was of happiness and pain.

He moved his fingers and she made a mew that shot straight the center of his brain that said: I can't hold out, we have to have it _Now_. And Al was not one to disobey, no he wasn't. He was fairly certain he knew where to stick what, and they were already naked, which was helpful, so he helped himself by moving over her.

She made all kinds of encouraging sounds, and that was good, because somehow he'd gotten blinders on and just his cock could maneuver now, although it had no eyes, it tried valiantly to see where they were going. His hand decided to help out by withdrawing from her and grabbing his cock and pulling on it as if to show it where to go. After all, his hand had already been there; it knew the way.

Riza was helping too; she put her hands on his hips. She also lifted her knees and pressed them to either side of his body, offering them like guide rails along the side of the road, so he wouldn't slip off and could keep on heading in the right direction.

His hips decided his hand might know what it was talking about, so they arched forward and the head of his cock met dampness and the brush of almost coarse hair, then Riza's hand joined in the expedition and her fingertips trailed along the underside of his cock and nudged the head up at the same time her knees tightened and urged him forward.

And then, just like that, he was there. Riza's hands griped his forearms, her body arched back as her hips angled up and for the life of him he could not breath. He felt her heels dig into the small of his back when she wrapped her legs around him, felt the bite of her nails against the skin on his arms, and he felt his cock jerk and constrict and expand and it was nothing he could have ever _imagined_ feeling, _(and he had imagined quite a bit of feeling not so long ago when all around him every word he uttered echoed)_.

He wanted to tell her all these amazing things, because he wanted to share everything with her. So he opened his mouth: but he didn't manage to say quite what he had on his mind.

“Can't...breathe...,” he started, and then he detonated. He really _couldn't_ breathe for long, agonizing moments, and when he finally could he did it so hard and fast he made his head swim.

He just wanted to wallow, to drop and rub himself against her and _purr_. When he lowered himself, she let him. When he rubbed against her, she held him close, and when he purred she kissed along his forehead.

Sex was great.

“It's great,” he said airily, “it's really, really great,” he told himself out loud.

“I'm sure it will be,” Riza said in a slightly terse and tense sort of way. He wondered at it hazily, but he afterglow fairies came, then, and clubbed him on the head with their wands until he feel asleep.

**

“I love you,” the blond crooned. “I love you so much, I wanna tell everybody, let's get a billboard.”

“Yes, yes,” the dark haired man replied, eyes never leaving the road.

“Do you love me?” the blond simpered. “You do, don't you? You better say you do because if you don't, and you like someone else, I'll find them and kill them.”

“Yes, yes,” the black haired man said, squinting up at the road sign above their exit.

“Are we there yet? We're almost there, aren't we?” the blond questioned.

“Yes, yes,” the other man said, sounding tired.

“Oh good,” said the blond, and then promptly threw up on the floorboard.


	22. Chapter 22

Every time he turned his red and runny eyes to the papers on his desk his vision swam and the voices started whispering all around his head. Voices, high and hushed, jabbering in excited tones,droning and incessant. When he lifted his eyes, all was silent.

He tried to remember if he'd maimed Breda or not. He knew he had wanted to, had mapped it out in exact detail just how he was going to strangle him with his own intestines. Had he done that? If he had, he hoped the General had pictures.

When he could actually focus on the boys, they were usually staring right at him. But they were smart, they knew when he was under the weather and likely to be at his most vicious, so they were very well behaved.

He rubbed a hand over his face and leaned his cheek into his palm; elbow on desk. He wished he could remember more details from the night before. Something seemed different. Roy seemed different. He'd been all smiles this morning, more than willing to coo over his sick and hung over lover. Not that Roy was particularly vindictive or spiteful when Ed had a few too many, but he wasn't usually so accommodating. There was usually a sternness to his affection when Ed was a bit to carefree for work the next day. But that was all absent this morning. Roy had been sunshine; it had been annoying.

He sighed and abruptly burped before he could catch it and cover his mouth. He heard many failed attempts to smother snickers and he relented, because really, he had no one to blame but himself.

“I should be an object lesson to you all,” he said, “take this warning and carry it with you into your adult lives.”

Since the Professor was demonstrating he wasn't going to leap over the desk and sink his fangs into the first student to make a breach of protocol, the room lightened up a bit.

“Why did you shave off your beard, Professor?” Seth asked in the silence.

 _What?_

 _Shave off his beard?_

He slowly slid his hand from his cheek to his lips. His fingertips probed under his nose, the palm of his hand caressed his chin.

They were both naked.

It took a few minutes of wiggling his hands back and forth to confirm this, but he still needed visual recon to correctly assess the situation. He lept to his feet making his chair tip over backwards and strike the blackboard before falling to the floor. There was a collective gasp in the room and then everyone looked at each other and the whispered conjecture began.

“SETH! You're the room monitor, I'll be right back!” the Professor yelled, then he ran across the floor and slammed out the door and it swung shut behind him.

“What do you think that was about?” Duffy asked, his eyes still fixed in their saucer like 'startled emergency' mode.

“He acted like he didn't know it was gone,” Eric chimed in.

“He went on a bender last night and someone shaved him as a joke, sweet!” Daniel crowed.

“Poor Professor,” Seth sighed. “He really thought it made him have less of a baby face.”

The other three boys looked a him.

“What? You know he has age hang ups! Look how he reacts whenever someone thinks he's a student!” Seth flailed around. “If you really observe the Professor the way I do, you'd know.”

“I think you observe him to much,” Duffy said.

“Yeah,” Eric chimed in, “that's a lot of observing.”

“It's like you want to date him or something,” Daniel said, mouth pulling down at the side.

“There is nothing wrong with being observant,” Seth said indignantly. “I want to be an alchemist, too. So if I watch one of the greatest alchemist of our time, then I might pick up some pointers.”

“Oh yeah,” Duffy snorted a laugh, “like how to lose your temper and screech a lot.”

“Or how to assign lots of homework because you're in a bad mood,” Eric pointed out.

“Or how to have long girly hair and have other guys crush on you,” Daniel leered.

“You're a bunch of morons,” Seth huffed. “Shut up.”

The Professor saved Seth from further teasing by slamming back into the room, stomping over to his desk and throwing himself into his chair. There were those in the room that swore the desk itself actually tried to cringe away from him. The entirety of the class took this well known mutual signal from their professor to be as quiet as possible and try not to move around much lest they attract his attention. At one point they all tried to breath in shifts so as to make less noise that way, and hopefully stay out of the line of fire.

Every now and again the Professor scowled up at the big wall clock as if to intimidate it into ticking by faster.

One of the boys made the horrible faux pas of actually coughing and everyone in the class room gripped the edge of their wooden chairs and steeled themselves for the hurricane force bellow that was sure to follow, but the Professor merely glanced up, then down and wrote furiously in his ledger. This made a few students bolder, and they risked glancing at each other. They, too, then glanced at the wall clock, pleading with it instead of trying to intimidate it.

“Chapter 18, 19 and 20!” the Professor suddenly exploded. “Read them! There will be a test, a long, involved written test with essay type answers expected,” he snarled. “Or maybe,” he continued, not looking at them but at some point outside the window in the direction of the main military offices, “I'll just have you write an essay, how many words should it be?” he hissed.

Daniel was then aware of many eyes trained upon him; 'Save us!' they pleaded. He shifted around in his seat and in doing so attracted the very thing he wanted to avoid.

“Do you have something to say, Mr. Stanton?” the Professor-creature asked in a low, scaly voice from behind his desk. His forked tongue whipped out once and he pinned the boy with his gaze as one might pin a butterfly to a board.

“We didn't shave off your stupid beard, it ain't our fault, you shouldn't take it out on us!” Daniel cried, realizing, belatedly, he should never just speak what's on his mind but not being able to help it.

The Professor turned an interesting shade of red, opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again and let it hang there a moment before finally closing it a second time. He whipped his gaze away, instead fixing his glare of doom on his ledger and made a few more furious notes. The whole room writhed in tension and now the pleading looks of 'Save us!' Daniel received turned into accusing stares of 'Way to go jerk! Now you've doomed us!'.

“This isn't about my beard,” the Professor finally said, but it was _obvious_ that it was, you could almost read it burned into the blackboard behind him. “Ok, three chapters is excessive, read chapter 18 and we'll have a multiple question pop quiz on it,” he finished out.

There was a collective gasp and then a collective sigh of relief. Daniel allowed himself a small half smile and basked in being the hero of the class once again.

“Well just have a thousand word essay for our semester final,” the Professor noted and there were several thunks of heads hitting desks around the room.

Daniel wasn't upset, after all, he wouldn't want the man to lose face so soon after losing his beard.

**

“I don't want to call you Gluttony, don't you have another name?” Luludja asked as they sat huddled in the back of a truck. “Gluttony isn't a proper name, it's a sin,” she said.

“But it's my name,” the fat man moaned and fretted with the brim of his bowler hat. “It's always been my name. I use to have another name but I'm not allowed to use it anymore, because it's not my name anymore, it's dead.”

Luludja put her elbows on her knees and her chin in her palm and mulled this over.

“I don't understand why it's dead,” she said. “If it was your name it's always your name, it's better isn't it than being named for something no one wants to be.”  
Sometimes talking seemed to complex a task for him, but at other times he would gush and tumble words. They made sense in the strangest ways; like reading a sentence backwards and they were no less elegant from the careless way they were dropped. This strange 'either or' with him was as fascinating as it was frustrating and she hadn't grown tired of it yet.

“You should go by Lust,” he offered timidly and she snorted.

“I think not,” she grumbled, even though the idea secretly appealed to her a bit. Lust was a sin, this was true, but in it's context wasn't it connected to beauty? That wasn't so bad, as far as sins were concerned.

“When we get to Central we have to go to church,” he explained. “We have to go to church and down the bottom to find the truth. We'll need an alchemist.”

He kept saying these cryptic things. Alchemists were only people she read about in the papers, she'd never actually met one. Most of them were people who were in the military, and that was like the police, and they should stay way from them. There were questions she never wanted to answer and places she never wanted to see again. She turned her minds eye away from empty houses and family pictures that were not her own. She never asked, he never volunteered and they houses were always nice, just like she liked them. He was good at that, she didn't need to know why he was good at what he was.

“What is the truth?” she asked him, “And why do alchemists know it and the rest of us don't?”

“I can't do alchemy, I have no gate,” he answered cheerfully, being as unhelpfully helpful as always.

It was like chasing her tail to have these discussions with him. She should really just ditch him, and maybe in Central she could. There would be opportunity there with so many people and so many things all around them. He was scattered within and there he would be scattered without and it would be easy to slip away. Never mind he was powerful in ways she couldn't understand and devoted in ways she didn't realize.

But he was kind of helpless on his own, that much was plain.

And he _was_ powerful, no one could stand up to him, even if she'd never actually witnessed this, she knew it to be true.

And he liked her, and he did what she told him to do.

She tapped her lip with the tip of her index finger and sighed.

She would just wait and see what happened in Central; there would be plenty of opportunity to make a decision there.

**

It was a wonderful, lavender scented cloud and he was curled up, warm and snug right in the middle of it. He lifted his eyebrows, smelling the sunshine that filtered in and lay dappled across his nose. Oh yes, life was a good place to be.

But then of course, he woke up.

Most notably his bed companion was no where to be seen. He pushed himself up on one hip and looked around the room. Her suitcase was open, but of her there was no sign. He reached up to push his bangs back, the sheet slipping into down to pool on his waist and that is when he noticed he was naked.

And he was naked because...

And suddenly life was a stupendous place to be, because good just didn't cut it anymore.

But then he remembered the actual act instead of the imagined act. He mulled it over for a good three or four minutes, sizing it up next to his 'great sex checklist'. As he tallied the scores he felt his stomach start to sink. There were several glaring and obvious omissions to what he wanted to do and what he actually did. And what he actually did was hair-trigger. Here he was in the prime of his life with the woman he'd dreamed of all his life and his love life had lasted perhaps...five seconds.

He was so miserably incompetent and undependable sexually, he wasn't even sure if he should even masturbate himself anymore; and that was likely all he was going to get considering he'd blown his whole sexual future on the good old 'wham-bam-thank you ma'am'.

He ran to his mental file cabinet and looked under 'emergency mortification in case of sexual incompetence', but the folder was empty and he wasn't sure what to do. He staggered around in his brain looking under rocks for answers that weren't forth coming. He was so paralyzed by not having an answer _(because he always had answers)_ , that he didn't completely register the door of the rooming opening or the sound of the door closing again.

“Good morning, Alphonse,” Riza said with a smile on her face and Al looked at her hands to see what caliber weapon she was likely to pistol whip him with, _(because surely, she wouldn't shoot him for that, although, he probably deserved it)_ , and she spoke again.

“You look pale, what's wrong?” she asked, crossing to the bed. Her hair was damp and loose and she was in her bathrobe and slippers and Alphonse whimpered slightly. Immediately her hand was on his cheek, then her fingers sliding into the hair at his temple.

“Before you say anything, just know you don't have to say anything. I have to admit, after I thought it over, I was rather flattered,” she said, her smile still soft, her voice reassuring and her manner not suggesting she was going to pull a concealed weapon from her robe at any moment.

“But...,” Al began miserably.

“But,” she stated firmly, “we all have to start somewhere and will make a confession to you. I think I will rather enjoying being your instructor. I can be a hard task master, I warn you now, but I think the lessons might turn out to be rather enjoyable.”  
Alphonse carefully schooled his expression, and licked his lips once. She was rubbing slow circles on his temple and her smile was still soft, but her words shot straight to his groin and he grabbed a pillow to hold in his lap even as her soft petting held him captive.

“You don't need to hide that now,” she said, gently tugging the pillow from his grip. “You should always come to me with your needs. That is what makes a couple; sharing, don't you agree?”

Alphonse nodded and wondered what had run off with his voice, because no matter how hard he tried he could not summon it. She leaned forward then, lowering her face, covering his mouth with her own and he was pressed back, into the pillows, her weight coming down on top of him. When she released his mouth, miraculously his voice had returned.

“What if I...?” he started.

“You won't, I'll be here to help you,” she reassured.

“I still want to apologize for last night,” he said.

“Not necessary, but accepted anyways,” she told him.

Al had his arms around her now, he was rubbing up and down her back. She kissed him again, then rolled to off to the side, looking up at him, smiling but expectant. Al wet his lips, squared his jaw and moved over her.

**

Roy heard him before he saw him and braced himself. He briefly considered making a makeshift barricade out of the trash can and Breda, not that Breda would provide much in the way of suitable cover. There were footsteps approaching quickly, closer and closer to the flimsy door that was the only thing that stood between him and 5'2 of nasty fate heading his way.

The door slammed back on it's hinges just as he expected it to and he caught himself just before he dived under his desk. Better to face death sitting in his comfy leather chair, after all, he was a General now and he finally got the damned comfy chair, better to die on his ass then on his knees.

Ed didn't say anything right off the bat, but he charged the desk and pointed at his face, fangs bared and eyes blazing. Roy almost broke and dove for the window, but he managed once again to check himself.

“How was your day?” Roy managed to ask and clasped his hands nervously on the desk before him. “You're looking gorgeous this afternoon,” he added hopefully.

Ed kept pointing at his face with one crooked finger and his fangs grew longer and he was turning really red and huffing like an engine building up steam.

“You want a kiss?” the General ventured. “Ok, but we're at the office so no funny stuff from you, ha ha,” he tried.

Ed shuddered all over, then he was on the desk, then he had Roy by the ears and then his teeth had Roy by the nose.

“GAHHHHH!” the General said then, in a rather pleading for his life fashion, and he jerked back and his comfy chair helpfully tipped right over bringing the blond wolverine, _(who had yet to release his nose)_ , right down on top of him. So his end was assured by the very chair he'd fought so long to sit his ass in, it figured.

“I already gave an eye!” the General shrieked.

“Equivalent exchange demands I eat your nose!” the monster howled, releasing his nose long enough to howl it. The General immediately clapped his hands over his nose to try and keep it attached.

“Maybe I'll just give you a new look by YANKING YOU BALD, HAIR FOR HAIR, HUH? MAYBE THAT'S A BETTER EXCHANGE!” His demon-possessed lover grinned down at him with a look that made demons shrink back into the depths of hell.

“Mercy my love, mercy,” the General whimpered from somewhere under him. “It was a moment of weakness, actually you were messy having puked in the car and then passed out and while I was attempting to scrub you clean some of it rubbed off and was lop sided so I tried to trim it up to make it even and make you more grown up and dashing but the more I shaved the shorter it got and then it looked funny...I couldn't help it! I'm not a barber!”

Ed sat back, straddling the General and looking down at him, one eyebrow cocked.

“You rubbed some of my beard off?” he questioned.

Roy nodded and still held his hands up to shield his nose.

“Ok, so then, because you wanted to even it out, you shaved it off?” Ed said.

“It was an accident,” the General murmured.

Ed wrinkled his nose and purses his lips and moved them back and forth.

“I threw up in the car, huh? No wonder it smelled funny the this morning,” Ed said.

“Right in the floorboard,” Roy confirmed.

“Well, I give you points for creative bullshit and I have to give you points for not bitching me out about throwing up in the car,” Ed sighed.

“Points for letting you get drunk in the first place and then cleaning you up even though you were covered in puke,” the General added tentatively.

“Ok, ok, I'll call this even,” Ed sighed and looked down at him. “Anything less? No sex for a month.”

The General's eye got very wide.

**

They arrived in Central in the night and he immediately sought out a place for them to stay. She waited outside as she always did, detached and ignorant, _(but less ignorant lately)_ , of what he was doing. He beckoned to her from the doorway of a small house, back lit by the kitchen light and she hurried inside and tried not to look around and tried not to wonder where the previous occupants had gone.

Such thought did her no good, she shouldn't even have them. She should just be thankful that there was always somewhere to stay wherever they went.

“Tomorrow the church, we'll go down and down,” he grinned, bustling about the small living room just off the kitchen. She didn't join him there, preferring to sit at the small table.

“You don't strike me as a god-fearing man,” she said. “So why are we going to a church?”

“It's just another gateway, to another place where we need to go,” he stopped and looked back toward her, “when we get there you'll see,” he said.

“What is it you want me to be?” she asked him, really studying him as she hadn't in a while. “Will it be like you?”

“Oh yes,” the jolly man nodded emphatically. “You'll be like me. You'll never grow old, you'll never die, unless they make you. You'll have everything you ever wanted and the power to take it, just wait,” he said.

She found his moments of lucidity far more disturbing than his normal insanity.

“All we need is an alchemist,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

“Where will we get one of those?” she asked, propping her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand.

“The military has them to spare,” he nodded. “I knew one, once. He was full of metal and just this high,” he held his hand up. “He made a lot of trouble. That is when she left,” he added sadly.

“Who left?” Luludja asked.

“You,” he said brightly. “But it doesn't matter, I have it inside of me and he can have it to use on you and then we'll be together again.”

“But we're together now,” she said.

“We are, but we aren't,” he sighed. “But when I am there and there is an alchemist, you will be there, too. It will be like you never left.”

“I don't understand, except to think you think I'm someone else,” she gave a shrug of her shoulders and glanced at the ice box, wondering what might be left behind to eat; if she could stomach to eat.

“I know you're someone else,” he replied. “You're just not here yet.”

She got up and crossed to the icebox, looked inside and shut his babbling out of her mind.

**  
“We really should make an appearance,” she murmured against the hair at this temple.

“Why?” he yawned. “We're paid up for two more days, by terms of contract the room is ours and if we want to make use of it, who are they to question?”

“Decorum and the need to eat,” she laughed softly, before lipping his earlobe.

“I'm not worried about decorum, food on the other hand might be nice,” he conceded.

“So we really need to get up now, and take a shower,” she said. He could feel her breath on his neck behind his ear.

“You'll have to show me the way to the bathroom, I'm not sure I can find it on my own,” he grinned and stretched a bit.

“I need another one anyways,” and with a show of reluctance she rolled away. He gave a mournful sigh; watched her don her robe and kicked his foot lazily in the sheet.

“Food,” she coaxed and fished his robe out of his suitcase and he kicked the sheet aside and got out of the bed.

**

“You know what work has done for me?” Ed asked after they'd come home for the evening and were stuffed with deli food and sitting in the living room being R.D. entertainment.

“Give you self esteem? A feeling of accomplishment? A sense of pride in doing a good job?” Roy asked from the couch where he was reading the evening paper.

“Made me look forward to weekends,” Ed said, lazily sliding his socked foot back and forth, inviting R.D. to attack it.

“Aren't we lucky then, that today is Friday?” the General said, amused.

“I think you're more lucky you still have a nose, actually,” the Professor returned.

The General reached up and felt his facial extremity again.

“You know, I really felt for a bit there it was another one of your bids to control my life,” Ed said, letting R.D. worry the toe of his sock on his automail foot. “I mean, I wanted the beard and you didn't, so you waited and took advantage of me when I was defenseless and took matters into your own hands. Don't give me any of your 'it rubbed off' nonsense, we both know that's total bullshit you came up with to save your nose.”

Roy lowered his paper and looked across the room to Ed, slouched in one of the recliners, a terrier hanging off his foot.

“Am I allowed to have no opinions now, Ed? Are you going to take everything I do adverse to your desires as my means of controlling your life?”

Ed glanced up at him, mouth pulling down in a frown and snorted.

“Well you just make it _feel_ that way, maybe I'm am a bit sensitive to it. But that was really low, even for you. I was drunk and dependant on you, and look what you did.”

“I don't regret it,” the General said, flipping his paper back up. “I think you are too lovely a man to hide your face with that coarse, mismatched hair.”

Ed tried not to let Roy's flattery go to his head or soften his need to make the bastard feel guilty; but it did anyway.

“Stop buttering me up,” he murmured and slid R.D. back and forth on the hardwood by the toe of his sock.

“I wouldn't dream of it,” the General said behind his paper screen.

“You're a bastard,” Ed said half heartedly. “I think you should make it up to me by taking me out to eat tomorrow.”

“You leave me little choice,” the voice behind the paper said. “Your impeccable logic and razor repartee have put me in my place. Where are we going?”

“I miss Brio's,” Ed sighed.

“My guilt isn't strong enough for a train ride to east city, guilt me into something closer,” Roy said.

“I wonder what Al is doing?” Ed said. “He hasn't called me even once.”

“That's a pretty good indication of what he is doing,” the General murmured. “I can give you a practical demonstration, only I don't think you'd like it if I pretended to be Al and you were having to pretend to be Hawkeye.”

“You are one sick fuck, you know that?” Ed growled. R.D. released his automail foot and went over to the oval rug and rolled onto his back and wiggled around, getting the itchy places.

“Not only do I know it, I list it on my resume,” the General said in his distracted, 'I'm reading' tone of voice.

“We have to go to the market tomorrow,” Ed informed him.

“We always ruin our Saturday morning with shopping, why don't we do it on Friday nights?” the General complained.

“You're always in a hurry to rush home and do nothing, like we're doing now, on a Friday night. I'm a young man, I should be out having a good time, you're dragging me down. You're a old, sick fuck bastard, and you're devouring my prime years of party going. Any other young man my age would be out drinking...”

“And barfing,” the General threw in.

“And having a good time,” Ed continued on, louder to drown out any heckling. “But me? I get to come home and sit around and watch a dog chew holes in my socks. Lucky me.”

“Very luck you,” the General agreed while missing what he was actually agreeing to, eyes still glued to his paper.

“Actually,” Ed said with a small smile, watching R.D. crouch and wiggle his haunches for another attack, “Yeah.”

**

That morning he woke her early with a tentative touch to her shoulder, and she complained softly the entire trek into the city on foot. He was going slow now, being less conspicuous, _(as if he could be appearing as he did)_ , much more methodical and careful. He actually seemed to be _thinking_ , and that in itself, made her shiver.

The church was old and stately, but churches tended to hold a monopoly on those conditions and gaining entrance was as easy as walking through the front doors. Religion made you so open and vulnerable, hell could walk right in. And it did, if it could be counted as such and he went right to the altar and shoved it aside like it was nothing and turned and held his huge hand out to her.

“This is it, you will be back soon,” the said in a tone and way that sounded nothing like him and when she hesitated he jerked his hand downward and his small eyes hardened. Intrigue and fear pushed her forward, after all, she'd come this far and there was no going back now. Not with everything that had happened between here and there; not with all his macabre courtship getting in the way. He quickly closed his fist over her wrist and pulled her and she saw the small archway then, the stairs leading downwards.

Though they stared in inky blackness there was soon a tiny light in a sconce on the wall, it was linked to another light a few feet ahead and then another; all interconnected by a wire that was draped loosely between them, looped over nails driven into the stone.

Down and down, just like he'd said. Beneath a church was a tunnel to hell and it was conveniently lit so that hell could eat them alive instead of take them dead after they'd tumbled to their death on the stairs.

The came out on a balcony and a vista opened before her and she knew the church above their heads only won the monopoly on old and stately because it had gone to great lengths to conceal this. A city inside the earth.

“What is this?” she whispered. “Is this the city of the damned?”

“Yes,” he said and she jerked, because she had not really expected that response. “It is a city of the damned and it continues to be one. Let's go to the opera house, she will not be there now, none of them will. We'll wait for an alchemist there.”

“How do you know one will come?” she asked as he lead her off the balcony, along a hallway at the end of which was another set of stairs. They descended this much shorter set, stepping out onto what appeared to be a messinine. She could still see the city, lurking below them.

“No one comes here,” she says, “we'll sit here till we rot!”

“Halt! Who is that?” came a voice from the other end of the hall. She froze. She could see a figure approaching them, he passed beneath a light, dim and domed overhead and she saw the blue of his uniform, the shape of the gun he was carrying.

“Don't worry,” Gluttony said in the voice she was accustom to. “I will make it so they come, so they take notice,” and he headed for the man slowly at first, then with gathering speed. The man raised his weapon, got off a choked scream or two and his cries brought the voices of others. Luludja pressed herself against the wall, ducking beneath the staircase they'd just come down and tried to ignore the shouts and shots, but most of all, she tried to ignore the content hum of someone being well fed.

**

The phone was ringing the next morning when they came in the door manhandling grocery bags. Roy dumped his on the floor by the hall phone stand and Ed continued down the hall and turned into the kitchen. The General picked up the receiver on the fourth ring.

“Hello? Yes, this is he,” then he went silent. Ed poked his head out of the doorway and watched, then came back down the hall and retrieved the bags Roy had set down.

“I see, and what time was this reported? Who is on duty there now?” the General said, one hand fisted and resting on his hip, the other on the receiver. He turned his back to Ed and Ed snorted and carried away the rest of the groceries.

Ed stopped in the kitchen doorway and stepped back into the hall when he heard the General say: “I'll be right there.”

Roy hung up the phone and looked down the hall at him, gave a helpless shrug.

“The first weekend you haven't had political crap and now this? It's the military's conspiracy to keep me from getting a nice meal out with my lover!” and Ed threw himself back into the kitchen and Roy sighed and started down the hallway.

“Ed, it's not like that. This is an emergency. There is a missing squadron that was on patrol int the old city,” Roy said, leaning in the doorway. “And even telling you that is telling you to much, but I think you deserve to know why I'm abandoning you tonight.”

“Old city, you mean, the one beneath Central?” Ed said, halted in mid bag unpacking.

“I have to report in, that's my jurisdiction by design,” the General said, and he gave Ed an meaningful look and turned to head toward bedroom and uniform.

“Ok fine, I'll just stay here and put away the groceries,” Ed said to his retreating back. Disappearing soldiers were an emergency, as much as Ed hated to admit it. He couldn't really blame Roy for going to his post to check on his men, he'd do the same thing in the same shoes. Roy had done it for him when he use to hurl himself headlong into the field.

Ed tossed the potatoes in the bin under the cabinet and looked out into the hallway again. If he volunteered to go with Roy, that would be met with resistance. Roy seemed happy Ed was no longer involved in the military beyond his civilian teaching role. Ed certainly expressed his dislike of his service during the time he was a member, enough so that Roy had taken it quite to heart and was determined to shield Ed from any further involvement. It was nice, it meant that Roy wanted to protect him and make him happy; therefore he was blocking Ed from something Ed had resented in the past. It was frustrating because Ed would sometimes feel excluded from Roy's life. But he couldn't have it both ways and so he tried to console himself with the fact he _was_ happy to no longer be involved, and even happier that Al was now officially a civilian as well.

He carefully set the eggs, one by one, in the small indented tray made for holding eggs in the door of the ice box. Roy kept talking about going to look at one of the new 'refrigerators', but his schedule prevented them from doing a lot of things. If he wasn't smoozing he was embroiled in some mission. If he wasn't campaigning, he was reviewing field reports. At least he'd managed to wheedle down the late nights to one, maybe two nights a week. But more often than not their weekends were shot by a dinner party or a function or some other way for Roy to ingratiate his way into political power. After the incident with the Prince, he and Roy had talked long and hard about his bid for Prime Minister. Ed knew, just as it was with his drive to restore Al, this is what made Roy tick. This was what he promised himself he would do. And even though Ed had told Roy he didn't need Roy to make the world a better place, but just to live in it with him, the need was a thing that did not die.

Hughes had believe in him, and Ed knew that Roy missed the man every day. Ed missed him as well, especially when he got a letter from Elysia or saw a photograph Gracia sent. Roy had seen to many bad things. Roy was a man who _knew_ what could happen, had lived what has almost happened, and he didn't want anyone to have to experience it again. Least of all Ed and Al, who Ed knew were the closest things to his heart.

All of that was why Roy Mustang was so achingly easy to love.

He appeared then, as if summoned by thought in his uniform. It was such a part of him that Ed wondered, if Roy ever did retire from military service, would he still wear it?  
Probably.

“I know you are tired of hearing me say I'll make it up to you,” Roy started and Ed gave a half smile, shook his head and walked over to him.

“A wise man once said to me; 'it's all part and parcel of the whole Roy Mustang gig', and I understand what he meant now,” Ed said, reaching out to touch Roy because he was close enough to touch.

Roy gave him a confused look and Ed gave a little laugh, leaned up and Roy leaned down and in the middle their lips met.

“You think you may be very late? Stay overnight?” Ed said with a small sigh.

“Depends on the situation,” Roy said, reaching up to run his fingers through Ed's bangs. “I promise to call you. I'll send a car in the morning to get you to school if I have to.”

Ed wasn't happy and he wasn't going to lie about it and not let it show on his face.

“I'm sorry,” Roy said again, kissing his forehead. “I was looking forward to dinner out this evening.”

“Don't beat yourself up about it, I can get some class room planning done. I just hope everything is alright an you're home before midnight?” Ed gave him a half hopeful smile.

“Me too,” the General said and kissed him once again before turning and heading down the hall. Ed watched him open the front door, block R.D. with his foot and give a wave.

Ed waved back then leaned against the kitchen door jamb and sighed when R.D. ran back to him, insulted to have been pushed back by the General's boot.

“I know,” he told the small terrier. “He's keeping me indoors, too.”

**

“More of them are coming,” she whispered. She could hear voices, outside, along the streets. Calls from men, searching and seeking. She knew all they would find would be scraps. Just scraps, guns and other things. Lying alone in the mezzanine, scattered in the streets.

“I want them to come, I want them to keep coming until they bring me what I need,” her companion said. His voice was calm and confident; his small eyes fixed on the window outside the small house where they were hiding. But they weren't hiding, were they? They were laying in wait.

“How did you come to be like this?” she asked, because now it was starting to really sink in, just what she might be involved in. There was no easy deniability, there was no excuse to latch onto. There was only this, and him, and what he had done. What he had always done. But she could ignore it before, pretend it wasn't there. She never had to watch and she never had to hear, until they came to his place.

“I was born,” he said. “But not of man and woman. I was born of desperation or need. I was born to be what I am with no choice in the matter. I was born to carry a sin inside me, even though I had not committed it.” He turned to look at her then. It was at times like these he was a horror. These times of rationality, _(if it could be called that)_ , when his voice was lucid. And even though he still spoke as cryptic as he always did, his tone was more self assured, more authoritative. She could feel her stomach flutter when he spoke this way. She could feel her skin almost crawl.

“You had a choice, you have none now, but you _did_ ,” he said. “Even when this was young, before you came so far, you had a choice. But now, you've seen to much, you know what is at stake and you're hungry. You can feel it, can't you? This gnawing inside? I have the power to consume _everything_ , but for all that, I know that even if I did? I would never be satisfied, because I _am_ Gluttony, not just in name. Do you know my hatred? Do you know what it is I hate the most? It isn't this never ending craving. It is what it is, and that is just life, we all have burdens. What I hate the most is that in my own weakness I can never truly realize what it is to _be_ Gluttony, for if I devour everything, then I will be alone. And I am far to weak to be alone.”

He went quite after that and Luludja just hugged herself. She could hear the running of feet on the cobblestones outside the house.

“I see no silver chains,” he sighed. “I guess I'll just have to provoke them again.” He went out the door and Luludja covered her ears. But really, the fresh screams did nothing to drown out the stale ones still echoing in her mind from earlier.

**  
The news arrived almost as it happened.

There was a monster underground.

The General would risk no more regular troops, because he had his fears and his suspicions. He hand picked his team and ignored the objections of those to be left behind. He went over strategy and maps at the site of the disturbance. He stationed men at the entrance armed with heavy weaponry to prevent it's escape. He took Havoc at his back and pulled on his gloves before giving the orders to the rest of the squad accompany them. He gave firm orders and timetables to be followed, just in case. Just in case.

Ed woke from where he'd fallen asleep on the couch. He fumbled to the den in the dark and almost knocked the phone from the desk before he got the receiver to his ear. He couldn't make out the time on the desk clock from the cloaking blackness and he grunted into the phone before he realized he was doing it.

“Roy?” he asked, sleep hoarse and pushing errant hair from his eyes.

“Ed, it's me, Cain Fuery,” said a voice on the other end of the line.

“Cain?” Ed asked in confusion. While they were good friends, it was true, Cain had never called the house to Ed's knowledge before.

“I'm breaking protocol to do this, hell I'm breaking all kinds of rules and going directly against his orders, even though he didn't give them to me,” the man said.

“What..what the fuck has happened?” Ed said quietly, his stomach sinking low.

“The General has disappeared, along with Havoc and several men into the underground city,” Cain said on the other end of the line. “They are talking about sealing it up if nothing is heard from them in a few hours time.”

“He's in there; they know it? They can't seal it up...like hell,” Ed all but screeched into the receiver.

“That's why I'm calling you,” Cain said. “Breda and I, we want to go in, we need your help.”

“You got that backwards, I'm going in and I need yours,” Ed snarled. “I'm fucking stranded out here, come and get me!”

“There is already a car on it's way to you, Breda is really good at forging the General's signature, he's done it enough times,” Cain said. “We have to keep this low profile, they've set up perimeter's now, it's really tight down there.”

“I'll get in,” Ed all but panted. “No one else has more rights to that fuckin' hole than me! I'm the one who died there, I'm the one who...” he gritted his teeth and ground the receiver against his ear. Roy had disappeared, along with Havoc and several other men.

He couldn't think and he could think and he didn't want to think.

He was terrified.

The old city, that person, the array, the sins, the stone and the gate.

They were nothing; but Roy?

He was everything.

“Ed?” Cain said, sounding far away and scratchy, like an old record playing over a microphone.

“Get me a uniform,” Ed hissed, “and think up some good cover. If we can't sneak past...”

“I'm on it, the car should be there soon,” Cain said. “If anyone can find him, you can,” the man ended softly.

“Or die trying,” Ed said and rubbed his forehead. “I'll be there as soon as I can.”

“Right,” Cain said and hung up.

Ed sat the phone back in the cradle of the receiver and sunk down into Roy's desk chair.

The old city, that person, the array, the sins, the stone and the gate.

They weren't real terror.

This? This uncertainty and the possibility he might be spending the rest of his happily ever after alone?

That was true terror.


	23. Chapter 23

“FALL BACK! FALL BACK!”

He was screaming but no one could hear him, he could hardly hear himself above the crackle and the gunfire, the screams and the snapping.

Someone grabbed him, to his right and he flinched hard and caught himself before he swung his hand around to snap in their face. Havoc was there, he had him by the arm, he was shouting something and forcing Roy along and the General was shouting back, but he didn't know what.

The men, he couldn't leave the men, what was Havoc doing?

“Getting you out of here! We don't know what we're dealing with!” he heard Havoc shouting, but it seemed far away.

There were men screaming behind him. He tried to pull his arm from Havoc's grip, _(damn the man's advantage in height and strength!)_ , but Havoc was having none of it.

“Don't force me to order...,” he got out before something barreled down on them. He hardly had time to glimpse it, in his peripheral vision it looked like a massive black ball. He was knocked to the side, stumbled and hit the wall of an old building before falling to his knees and looking up.

“Alchemist!” the ball chortled merrily, shaking all over.

“GENERAL GET DOWN!” he heard Havoc shout behind it, and then the sound of a rifle lever being pulled. He flatted out, throwing his hands over his head. The rapid ratta-tat of gunfire vibrated through his entire body and the ball, so jolly the moment before, started shrieking high and long and turned from him toward Havoc and his weapon.

“GENERAL RUN,” Havoc was yelling. “GET A FUCKIN' MOVE ON, SIR!”

Roy got to his knees, and then his feet, extended his hand toward the black blob that was advancing on Havoc.

“DON'T DO THAT SARAH LIKES MY EYEBROWS, JUST MOVE, GET SOME DISTANCE, I'LL CATCH UP,” Havoc was screeching as he slowly retreated before this thing, baiting it with gun fire.

Retreat, regroup.

The General turned and ran.

**

He pushed his hair down into the collar of the borrowed uniform. It was too big. It was long in the sleeves and he had to cinch the belt as tight as it would go. His toes came nowhere near the end of the boot and it rubbed his flesh heel. But it would do.

It had to do.

Cain had already loaded the radio equipment into the back of the short truck and Ed was squeezed between him and Breda in the small cab.

“Just let me do the talking,” Breda said, “and keep your head down. Pull that hat over your eyes.”

He could hear the buzz through the half opened window of the truck as they reached the site. Machinery and generators, the glow of artificial light against the gloom, just to stave off the darkness until the approaching morning. He forced himself to keep his eyes glued to his clenched fists in his lap when the truck shuttered to a stop down the block from the old church.

“What is this?” the sentry on duty asked, poking his nose in the window. Another sentry circled to the passenger side of the truck and Cain cracked the window on that side as well.

“What's it look like, radio gear,” Breda snorted. “And for this they drag me out of bed. So what did the brass fuck up this time? We having a war on religion?”

“Who requisitioned this gear?” the sentry on the passenger side said, taking a minute to study Ed and then look again at Cain.

“General Mustang,” Cain said, holding up a few rumpled sheets of paper. “It's special long range gear, we would have gotten it here earlier, but we had to drive to get it...”

The sentry on Breda's side of the truck made an impatient motion with his hand and Breda leaned across Ed and snatched the papers from Cain's grip, then shoved them through the window to the man outside.

The second sentry came back around then, and they both stood, trying to read the papers together. Ed shifted and took a deep breath. Cain bumped knees with him, and Breda rumbled.

“Ok,” the first sentry said, “this seems to check out. Drive your truck down the block past the second barricade and unload there. One of the guys down there will get you to the communications set up,” he pushed the papers back through the window to Breda and stood back, waved his hand to send them through.

They cleared the second barricade and the truck bounced when Breda pulled it over and half up onto the curb. Ed took this as his signal to get out, and he started to climb over Fuery in his quest to escape the truck, but a large hand closed around the back of his neck. The thick fingers where hot against his skin despite being muffled by his hair and Breda growled at him.

“Hang on, boss,” and he gave Ed a little shake, like R.D. worried his chew toys and Ed tried to snarl but really he almost felt like he wanted to curl up.

“Now I know,” the large red-haired man started, “you just wanna run in there. I know, because you know even though I'm not... I mean, you know the General and all, I'm not...,” with his free hand he rubbed his face a moment. “Anyways, I know what you're thinking because I've known you a long time. But you can't do it that way, that's the kids way and you were lucky. You can't think like that anymore, because you aren't that anymore. You got a brain, and you gotta use it, right? So just take it slow. The General, he ain't gonna lay down, curl up and die, so have some faith in him.” Breda slowly relaxed the grip on the nape of Ed's neck.

Ed reached up to rub where Breda's hand had been. He gave the man a half scowl from behind his bangs, then nodded tersely.

“So, what is your plan?” he asked quietly.

“Falman is already here,” Cain said. “He's suppose to meet us, tell us about the operations here and how we might get in.” He opened the door of the truck and slid off the seat and stepped back to let Ed follow him out.

Ed dropped to the ground, said nothing and followed Fuery to the back of the truck. There, together with Breda, they loaded themselves down with satchels and cases and all manner of things to make this look official. If you were carrying things the general military consensus was you were doing your duty, and thus, had a right to be there. With Fuery in the lead, the duty-ladened trio set off for the temporary command headquarters stationed in a tent just in front of the church steps.

Edward gazed up at the portal to heaven that was more accurately a portal to hell. It was here the Tringhams led him, here he left everything behind to start Al anew. Far underground though a man-made gateway no less terrifying than the one between worlds. He took a deep breath and came to a stop just outside the tent. Fuery went in and Breda fished around in his pockets and pulled out a crumbled pack of cigarettes. The waiting was interminable. He resisted the urge to poke his head in the tent, to start questioning Breda, to fidget _dammit_ , he wasn't even allowed the luxury to express all the anxiety coiling up his spine and nibbling at the nape of his neck.

A sharp voice broke his near implosion.

“I've been waiting on that, bring it this way!” Ed snapped his head around and raised his eyebrows. He'd never heard Falman so much as raise his voice, let alone give an order. Breda grunted like all the world was upon his shoulders as he leaned down to pick up his cases. Ed hurriedly followed suit, slinging the strap of one over his shoulder.

“Yeah, hold your damn horses, we're coming,” Breda said, spitting his cigarette, still smoldering onto the street. Fuery appeared out of tent and brought up the rear as the trio followed Falman's stiff-backed lead. When they appeared to be far enough away from the real hub-bub, Ed quickened his pace to come up beside the tall, white-haired man.

“What have you heard?” he asked, trying not to sound as antsy as he felt. “How long have they been down there, what was the last communication, how do we get in?”

He needed to know, he needed to know these things so he could go and get Roy. Go and get Roy and take him home.

Falman raised one hand as they walked up a smaller set of stairs and he nodded briefly to the solider at the door. He took them down a small hallway that ran into the side of the church proper, parallel to the main hall and stopped briefly outside a doorway. He knocked once, tersely, mouth pulled down and waited. There was no sound from within the room, so he turned the knob, poked his head inside then stepped in, waving for them to follow.

The room was small and somewhat dim. It had the smell of dust and old books. Nothing adorned it in a way that stood out. Just a scratched desk, a slouched back wooden desk chair and some book shelves listing against the far wall. They sat their cases down and Cain immediately commandeered the desk for his, opening them and starting to unpack equipment.

Falman listened at the door a moment, then nodded briefly to Fuery.

“Ok,” Cain said as he started to situation the radio equipment on the table. “The plan is that you and Breda are going to go down and set up a relay station at the post leading into the underground city. That should get you as far as the first mezzanine.” He looked up at Ed then.

“We're hoping that from there you can just... wing it. That seemed to be your modus operandi when you were really one of us.”

It was certainly meant as a vote of confidence, as to be perfectly honest his loose cannon ways had served him well in his youth. After all, his true talent wasn't alchemy, it was flying by the seat of his pants.

**

It was easier than it should have been. He just slipped away unnoticed and thanked Breda for his delightfully loud and raunchy mouth.

Down and down and down and down. Over and over and after a while he didn't try to muffle his footsteps. Metal muted by leather on cold stone. He shucked the jacket near the bottom, leaving it lying like a proverbial bread crumb he would follow back. He would follow it back, Roy would be with him. They would have to climb all these fucking stairs to get home and then Roy would indulge him in a nice long hot bath, and wash his hair and grumble about politics.

All he had to do was find him and bring him back to the stairs. It would be as easy as pie, which they would also have, in the hot bath, with the hair washing.

The sight that greeted him would have momentarily suspended the belief of many men. The vast emptiness of the completely filled cavern. The high aqueduct like bridge encircling it for all the gawkers to gather upon. But it was nothing more than a maze, and he was a prize rat, and here he was again to run this race; here he was again to find his reason for being. The gloom had a pallor and it hung, just above his head it seemed. But it was never so dense as to deny him light enough to see his way through the streets of a city that gave new breath to nonvocal. A place that exhaled death and dust even as he struggled to breathe within it.

He stumbled once, and caught himself. He looked in mild curiosity at the gun lying there in the street, he steadfastly ignored the still clutching hand of the arm that lay near it, draped in blue and all alone, missing it's entirety.

For one absurd second he gripped his own right arm and hurried ahead, listening and then ruefully acknowledging the oxymoron of 'hearing' nothing.

 _Brother, don't make the same mistake twice._

I will do it, if I have to.

 _Brother, don't leave us behind again._

What good am I really? I have never learned how to live alone.

 _Brother, it's not what he would have wanted._

He came to a stop and looked upwards, eyes traveling up the spire of a bell tower, still off in the distance. Everything was so enclosed to be so far away.

“You know what, Al?” he whispered to everything and nothing. “I think I'm tired of thinking about what everyone else would have wanted. I think, just this once, I'll think about what I want.”

He wanted _Roy_. He wanted his infuriating, exasperating, manipulative, _beautiful_ General, and he wanted to go the fuck home.

“Ok,” he told himself, and gave a small smile that might not have seemed quite sane in any other lifetime. “Let's do that, it's about time I listened to you for once.”

He didn't get another ten feet before something bowled him off his feet and clamped a firm hand over his mouth and dragged him into an alleyway across the street.

**

If only he didn't need to breathe.

Without his breath there would be no noise. There would be absolute stillness.

If only his heart didn't need to beat.

Without his heart, his ears would not be pounding, his ribs would not be aching and he would not be feeling like it might burst at any minute.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” sing songed a childish voice that tricked into his eardrums and swam just at the edge of his brain and made him breathe even faster.

“I can smell you, you smell like smoke and ashes,” the voice continued. “You don't have to be afraid. I need you, I need you and when you are needed you are useful and when you are useful you are alive. I need you alive, so don't be afraid, you can come out. Doesn't that feel better? I need you, you want to come out. It's a mutual agreement. All those others? I didn't need them, I didn't need them. But you, I need you, so you are safe. See? It's logic. I have logic so you don't have to be afraid. Come out. I'm already full.”

He pressed his head against the wall, grinding his cheek against scarred brick and tried to hold his breath and still his stomach.

“Gluttony!”

Innocuous and surreal, the woman's voice lay over the gloom just above Roy's head and he furrowed his brow. Why would a woman be here, calling that things name?

“I'm here!” the sin returned, his voice just as mirthful as if he were truly calling to a lover and wasn't here hunting another morsel to feed his endless maw. “The Alchemist is hiding from me, you come and talk to him, anyone will listen to you.”

“No, come away, let's get out of here while we can. What are you doing causing something like this?” Her voice was even, no vestige of stress or fright. Didn't she know what this was? How could she not know? Who was she? Why was she here?

“But it's for you,” the sin whined. “ You know I need him. I need him so we can go to the old opera house where she once made things happen. He can make things happen, I know he can. He's an alchemist and I have... I have that in me now. I can feel it. I makes me _think_ and I don't like it. I want it to be like before. I want you to have it in you and you do the thinking. I liked it better like that.”

“You make no sense, even if this alchemist is here, why would he help you when all you've done is this? Let's go away from here while we still can.”

She spoke in a way that made sense, even in this senselessness.

“But Lust,” the man whine, his voice high pitched like that of a child being denied a sweet, or a swing in the park, “If we don't make you the way you were, then you might go away. You need to be like you were, so you _understand_. When you are like that, then we'll be together like before.”

Maybe she was a captive. Maybe she wasn't as willing to this as it seemed and she'd learned to play this thing to her advantage. He heard it call another sin's name, Lust. He knew that for each cardinal sin there was a homuculus. This is perhaps not what the church had intended, but there was no more fitting description to the ersatz beings that seemingly had been brought forth beneath it's very roof. If he could reason with her and her with it...

“I'm coming out,” the General said, pushing himself to his feet. “I'm unarmed.”

“See?” the man called Gluttony chortled. “He's going to help! People listen to you, but don't believe him when he says he is unarmed. He's not a gentleman in those white gloves.”

The General stepped around the corner and stopped, looking at the pair before him. The man he'd never seen before, except in Ed's reports and his halting half whispered memories of him. The woman, too, was no one he recognized. She was tall and dusky with long thick dark hair that fell past her shoulders. She looked him up and down once, then laid her hand on the fat man's shoulder and leaned forward a little.

“How is he going to do what you want him to do?” she asked.

The fat man chuckled a moment, then moved in such a way that made the General think of other impossible things; such as the fact bumblebees were not suppose to fly. He barely had time to blink before his hands disappeared into the meaty fists of the sin before him. He stood there, some horrific parody of two friends, brothers or lovers, clasping hands and the fat man grinned at him.

“You aren't going to make this difficult are you? If you do, I won't be nice. I'm being nice right now, but really, I won't be nice if you are difficult. You don't need your legs to transmute, just your hands!” He gave Roy a savage tug forward and the General pitched and went down on one knee, hands still gripped as if by balls of granite.

“What did they call you?” the man said, grin fading somewhat. “What was the name Pride gave you?” he asked.

“Fuh...Flame,” the General gasped, pulling at his hands a bit.

He nodded once, but said nothing else. He released Roy's hands, but grabbed him by one arm and used his fat fingers to pick off his glove and drop it in the street, he repeated the action on the other hand.

“Now he'll be easier to manage,” the fat man said, light tone returning. “Let's go to the opera!”

Roy looked at the woman, wondering how he could manage a moment or two alone. She regarded him frankly, arms crossed and mouth pulled down on one side. He gasped at the fat man suddenly lifted him off his feet and flung him over his shoulders, like a soldier shouldering his rifle when the watch was to boring.

The woman gave a disapproving snort.

“I told you not to call me that name. This is lunacy, you'll only eat him like everyone else,” she said and turned to walk away.

“I won't,” the jolly fat man huffed, a little bounce to his step that forced Roy to struggle for breath before the next one. “I won't eat this one, help me remember.”

She turned her head to look at Roy again. It was an appraising look; the kind of look where you weighed options and tried to see the big picture. It was funny how the ambitious were always drawn together, even in absurdity like this.

He'd given himself up for nothing.

This woman...she wasn't a captive.

**

Havoc whipped his hand away before he lost any appendages and hissed into Ed's ear.

“Be quiet already, for fuck's sake. Do you always have loud conversations with yourself in the middle of a war zone? No wonder you always got the shit kicked out of you.”

Ed wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and turned to look at Havoc, narrowing his eyes.

“What are you doing here? You are _civilian_ ,” Havoc hissed again. “There will be court marshallings upon ass kickings upon court marshallings,” he promised gravely.

“Are you listening to yourself? Did you hear what you just said? You expect me to be anywhere else? Where's Roy?” Ed pushed himself back to his feet and Havoc stood with him, adjusting the shoulder strap of his rifle.

“I don't know,” he said, not quite meeting Ed's eyes. “When all the chaos started he ordered a retreat. Then this... thing came out of nowhere and starting shrieking about alchemists. It made a beeline for him, I drew it off momentarily,” he patted the butt of his rife absently, “but it knocked me into the side of a building, things got fuzzy after that. When I was focused again, everyone was gone. I think a lot of them made it back to the surface, I hope at least they did, but I wasn't going to leave the General.”

“Thing?” Ed said. “What thing? I mean, you were shooting it, right?”

“It's a man, but it's large, like a really fat man,” Havoc held his arms out around him in demonstration. “And it's insane, it just keeps spouting this gibberish about the General making lust, I have no idea what it's talking about...”

“Lust?” Ed said faintly.

“I emptied almost a full clip in it and it just kept coming, it didn't even _bleed_ , “ Havoc said, faltering a little as things finally started to sink in.

Ed let his back hit the wall again, slid back into a squatting position, elbows on his knees, hand over his mouth.

 _Fucking hell, fucking what the hell was he never to be FREE? What did it take? What did it finally fucking take for it to all just go the fuck away and leave him the fuck alone and let him have his damn life back?! Why was this his fucking responsibility? Why was he being made to deal with every last fucking one of them?! Why was he the clean up crew, was his fucking sin that bad?! Was it?! Just because he loved his mother and his brother and he paid with all his bones and blood and flesh but it was never fucking enough? NEVER?!_

“Hey...hey boss, you ok?” Havoc said, looking down at him.

“No Havoc, no, it is not fucking ok, it never fucking will be,” he said, muffled through his fingers. “Because obviously I'm the fucking original sinner and I have to pay again and again and again for trying to play fucking god, y'know? I just. Keep. Paying. And I'm sick and fucking damn tired of it. I'm balls busted, flat assed broke of anything left to spew into the maw of never being shit canned free of my past. I never get to pay it forward because I'm still in debt for every fucking thought I ever had!”

Havoc didn't react for a moment, but the he reached down, grabbed Ed by his collar and yanked the smaller man to his feet.

“Yeah, ok, you done then? You done with your tantrum, maybe we can get down to the business that brought your ass where it wasn't supposed to be in the first place?” he growled into Ed's face.

Ed had the grace to look startled.

“Ok, you seem to know what I'm talking about, what I saw back there, so spill your guts _Professor_ , what are we dealing with, how do we find it? How do we kill it? Because between you and me? Maybe the General ain't got time for you to sit around and slam your skull into the wall or fall on your own gawddamn sword, got it?”

Ed licked his lips, and hung by his collar in Havoc's grip.

“It...it's a homunculus,” he said. No one in the world made him feel twelve in quite the way Havoc always did.

“Pretend I don't know what the fuck you're talking about,” Havoc said and gave him a shake by his collar. “Pretend I'm just Joe Blow on the street, or better yet, one of your students, and tell me what the hell that word means. And yeah, I sorta know about it, but what does it _mean_?” he said as he shook Ed some more.

“Ok, it means we're in deep shit, that's what it means,” Ed clarified. “Because bullets can't kill it, you gun totting lunatic. The only way to kill it is to, hell, I'm not even sure. You gotta have a piece of it's original body and then just shit,” Ed flailed for emphasis despite still hanging in Havoc's hands. “I only killed _one_ , and I had a lot of help even though I didn't know it, what does that make me? An expert?”

 _I killed two, but really, I'd already killed that one in a way, anyways. So for the record, yeah for that record, it was only one._

“Well shit, can't you just alchemy it away?” Havoc said and snorted.

“What? It doesn't work like that, I can't just alchemy things away. Fuck's sake, let me go already!”

Ed reached up to straighten his collar when Havoc released him.

Havoc looked down at him again, shifted, looked away, looked at him again.

“So, in an advisory, civilian capacity, like a contractor, do you have any suggestions?” he asked.

“Yeah, the civilian side of me says we should run far the fuck away and don't look back,” Ed shrugged. “The 'that fucking thing has my boyfriend' part of me says he better not lay one finger on the bastard or I'll fucking kill him and then the bastard to for letting that fucking thing take him in the first place. The other part of me that is still a half-cocked teenager that will fly off the handle at anything says 'let's just go fuck it up for the fun of it'. Really, I'm clueless.”

Havoc folded his arms and they both stood looking at each other.

“You went and got soft,” Havoc started.

“Oh no, you don't! You're the one rubbing my civilianess in my face, Dog-breath! So get with the military know how and think or shoot us out of this situation, and hurry the fuck up, the rest of my life is riding on it!” Ed snarled.

“Ok, so you good now?” Havoc asked.

“Yeah,” Ed nodded. “Thanks. Really, I needed that. Ok, ok,” he rubbed at his face. “The chances of us killing Gluttony are slim. It has to be Gluttony. He had this thing for Lust... I think we all had a thing for Lust. But really, I can't believe he's still alive. But alive is too generous a word for him, let's say he's still existing. Then again, it could be that, since he ate part of Al's armor and Al was the stone at the time...”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, back up there boss, what and what?” Havoc said.

“I wish I had time to tell you,” Ed said with a small, sort of sad smile. “It's a helluva story. But I don't, I have to find Roy,” Ed sighed. “I have to find Roy and take him home.”

“Well, at least you got some idea of what we're dealing with. I guess if it comes to it, I can always play distraction, that seems all this toy is good for, and I can't do what you do Ed, and if you can't figure out how to make what you do work...” Havoc trailed off.

“I'll think of something,” Ed said, “it's not like I ever really knew what I was doing.”

Havoc peered out of the alley, slipped out and motioned Ed to follow him, they started down the street.

“Maybe we should split up, we can signal each other, you with gunfire, me with alchemy-ing something so you can see it,” Ed said.

“I don't know,” Havoc said, “I'm not all that keen on you wandering around alone.”

“I'm not twelve, _Jean_ ,” Ed ground out.

“Alright, alright, but keep an eye out. Alchemy the shit out of something if you even think you see anything.”

**

Roy grunted as he was dumped onto the floor. He blinked against the gloom and pushed himself up slowly onto one hip.

“We need some light,” the woman said, he could hear the strike of her heels on the floor. He craned his head back to look up. Wherever they were, it was large and open, but in the hovering darkness it was really impossible to tell just how large and open.

“Bother,” the fat man said, reached down to grab Roy by one arm and started to drag him across the floor. Roy tried to get to his feet, but he was yanked down again. The fat man stopped next to what looked like a pillar and sighed. “We need fire,” he called after the woman.

“Oy then, have him make some, he was making plenty before,” she called back.

“I took away his gloves, and I can't let him just make an array. Can't you find some way to make fire? There are torches,” the fat man said.

“I can make your fire,” Roy tried. “I won't...” he exhaled sharply when the fat man rapped him against the pillar.

“I'm not stupid, really,” the fat man chortled. “I'm just many and one and confused,” he sighed.

Roy got on his knees, one arm still fisted in the fat man's grip. He heard the woman, she sounded like she was mumbling under her breath, and he could hear the rustle of things he couldn't see.

“Where are we?” he tried and then braced himself, if his every word brought a consequence, getting any answers was going to be painful indeed.

“I can't find anything,” the woman said. “This was your grand plan, to come to the dark and beat him against a pillar? That will make me into what you want me to be?”

“I'm sorry,” the fat man whimpered. Roy was spared another slam against the pillar. He looked down at Roy speculatively.

Roy said nothing. What could he say, really? He wasn't exactly helpless without his gloves, but in sheer physical strength this thing was beyond him. It might as well be an ant trying to take on an aardvark. It was no contest, and the General was savvy enough to know that butting your head against a wall eventually hurt. He wished he could teach Ed that.

The fat man looked between Roy and the woman several times before heaving a sigh of resignation.

“You are going to make the torches burn. If you try anything, even one tiny thing... you will not be happy. I will make you very, very unhappy but leave you alive.”

“I'll just light the torches,” Roy said, licking his dry lips.

He was released, but the fat man stood very close.

“I don't have my gloves, I need to draw an array,” the General said. “Do you have any chalk?”

The fat man squatted beside him, and with the fingernail of one swollen hand he ground a circle into the floor.

“I can see the elements,” the fat man said, “but I don't know where to put them.”

Roy leaned over the circle, putting his finger on it. Slowly he began to draw, the fat man followed along biting into the wooden floor with just his fingernail, until the simple array had been drawn. Roy then looked up at him as he slowly lowered his fingertips to the outer edge. The fat man grinned.

When people grinned, it usually conveyed a wide variety of emotions, rarely associated with terror. Roy hastily dropped his eyes, took a deep breath and concentrated.

The torch on the pillar beside them burst into life and the fat man made a high sound of pleasure, a few more around the room similarly flared up, and even more as Roy could see them. In moments they were surrounded by light. The fat man snatched him away from the array then and leaned over. He extended his tongue toward the array, Roy could see a red mark on it, and the fat man swiped his tongue over the markings on the floor. As if acid had touched it, the floor distorted and was eaten away where he had licked. Roy swallowed.

The fat man then dragged him out in the middle of what seemed to be a large ballroom. All round them were balconies filled with row upon row of empty chairs. All silent witness to his chance to be center stage.

What a lark, what complete irony. Here he had craved and crawled and begged and bowed, all with the intention of doing whatever he needed to get to the top. He'd bent over, he'd swallowed, he'd waited and he'd struck. But stil, the spotlight hovered right out of reach. Until here, until now, when he would probably perform his final act before an audience of none and then he would be over. Never got anywhere, never did anything, never saved the world.

 _Al will take care of Ed._

He hadn't allowed himself to think of it, but now, he couldn't help it.

 _So this is it? You curl up and die?_

The General blinked. He hadn't heard that inner voice in a long time. In a very long time. But oh, how he adored it. It's nuances, it's sneers and mocking. He never realized he'd missed it in the joy of having the real thing by his side.

“No,” he whispered. “But I'm out of options, any suggestions?”

 _Kick it in the balls and run._

Ah, the inner Ed, so helpful.

“I don't think it has any balls,” Roy muttered and then gasped when he was shoved to the floor.

“Look,” the thing above him simpered. “Here it is, the array! See?”

Roy lifted his head, turned it but could only see a stripe of black from where he lay.

“It made armor into flesh!” the thing cried happily. “Look Lust, look! The array!”

Roy turned to look where the woman was standing. She had her arms folded, her hip jutted out and a scowl on her features. She might have been an attractive woman, in fact, Roy was fairly certain she was, but he was blinded in more ways that just physical. All he could see was gold.

“It's a drawing on the floor, how does that help?” the woman asked, voice dripping with skepticism.

“It's an array,” the fat man all but whined. “It's what we need to make you into you again. Don't worry, the alchemist will know what to do.” He yanked Roy back up onto his knees and Roy looked down again from this little bit of vantage point. He could see a pattern, a huge array stretching out in all directions. It was unlike any he had ever seen.

The fat man released him again, looked down at him in an expectant fashion.

“Wait... you said, armor into flesh?” Roy asked.

The fat man nodded vigorously.

“Yes! All around you, see? It made armor into flesh and the Gate opened wide and all sorts of good and bad spilled in and out! I chased her up in the elevator, because she took Lust away, even if she didn't, she did.”

“I don't understand,” Roy said.

“Neither do I,” the fat man sighed. “But when I did that, I wasn't here yet. I mean, I was, but she had taken from me, the stone gave it back.” He patted his round stomach and grinned. “The stone makes me see more than I did before and it makes me understand sometimes, and sometimes I don't care! I just want Lust to come back, the Gate can have it all, it's in here, it can take that and give me back Lust. That's all I want. You do that.”

“I can't... I mean I can't make her into a homunculus,” Roy said. “I don't know how, I don't think it's possible, I don't know how this array...” but he didn't finish because a fist slammed into the side of his head and his head hit the floor. He lay there gasping and blinking and fighting off the tunnel vision that threatened.

“You can do it,” the thing hummed merrily, as if it hadn't just tried to fracture Roy's skull. “You're an alchemist, you can do anything. I know, because here an alchemist made armor flesh, and if he can do that, then flesh can be made into... into what this is,” and he patted his stomach again. “We're better than humans, Envy always said so.”

Roy pushed himself up slowly to his hands and knees again. When the dizziness stopped he sat back on his knees.

“But... it's not like that. I can't just activate an array I know nothing about. It could do untold amounts of damage uncontrolled. Even kill...” and he cringed backwards, but a hand fell on his head, thick fingers gripped his hair and suddenly his cheek was pressed hard to the floor beneath him. His head was being scrubbed back and forth, as if used to mop up something that had split there.

“You do this! You can do it! I know because I know that alchemy is what makes it work! I was made that way, everyone was made that way! I'll make you do this, you'll do it before it's over,” the sin promised.

“Don't kill him before he does it,” said someone in the distance. Roy could barely hear over the rush in his ears, but the hand on his head let go suddenly. It didn't seem to matter, because at the moment he didn't think he could lift his head anyways.

He saw a figure, blurry in his peripheral vision, come close and stop.

“I'm going out for some air, and to see if we are surrounded yet. Don't eat him, don't kill him,” the voice warned in a slightly scolding manner.

“Awwww, don't go far, come back soon!” the fat man sang after her. “If you see any soldiers let me know, I am a little hungry...” he trailed off as she got out of sight and sighed. He looked down at Roy.

“Sometimes I just don't know what she wants from me. I do and I do, but it's never enough,” the fat man plopped down on his fat ass, right there beside the General. “I mean, I can't figure her out. If I do what she wants me to, she's not happy, if I don't do what she wants me to, she's not happy. I'll never understand.”

Roy quirked his only remaining eyebrow.

“Not even the stone can understand,” Gluttony sighed.

And Roy laughed, because he could at least do that. He could then boast at the pearly gates.

He'd laughed in the face of his death.

**

He picked his way over rubbled, ran down alleyways, peered in windows. He wanted to scream. He wanted to scream over and over, but Havoc was right. Don't let them know you're coming, why announce you're walking into the trap? Just do it, just stumble in and start shooting. In theory, anyways.

Time moved both swift and slow. It was taking forever to comb though this ruin, but it was moving to quickly because for every slow minute that ticked by, another rushed in Roy's direction.

Find Roy, take him home.

They saw each other simultaneously, and reacted in sync, each gaping then taking a step back.

It was a woman, more a girl, with dark skin and black hair over her shoulders. She wore a fancy silk dress and shoes that were horribly out of place for walking through this mess. She looked quickly over her shoulder, then back to Ed. She widened her eyes and held a finger to her lips as if to shush him and he gave her an askance look. What the fuck? Why was he even here and who the fuck was she?

She beckoned to him, and he stalled, looking back and forth, then, finally, he crossed the few yard over to her. She cupped her hand around her mouth as if to whisper and leaned forward. Ed leaned closer as well.

“He'll hear you, be very quiet,” she whispered.

“Who?” Ed whispered back.

“That thing in there,” she nodded toward a building and Ed looked over at it, then up to it's dome and it's spire. His stomach curled in on itself and tried to hide behind his spleen.

Oh, he knew this building.

“You need to get out of here,” Ed said lowly. “That thing in there is a monster, he'll kill you. How did you get here? Did he bring you here?”

She nodded.

“I didn't have a choice, he forced me. I would have run away, but he has a man in there, I'm afraid if I leave he will kill him.”

Ed eyes snapped back to the building, he nodded tersely.

“Right, you get out of here, I'll take care of this. Just head for the arches,” he turned to point the way. “There are stairs, a lot of them, but climb them. There are people up there, they'll help you.”

“What about you?” she asked.

“I'm going to get the General,” Ed said. “Just go, don't worry about me.”

“Be careful,” she said with a light touch on his shoulder. Ed moved past her and she stood watching him as he made his way to the building, he climbed the steps, paused at the door and turned to see her still standing there. He made a motion to wave her on. She lifted her hand as if to wave back, but he moved into the doorway and then cautiously made his way inside.

 

**

 

It was mostly dark. Just like he remembered. Even the air smelled the same, thick with the scent of burning torch wick and stale as old bread. He moved lightly, in increments, slowly creeping up on the light just ahead. He strained to listen and held his breath the closer he got. He could hear the murmur of a voice, and then another, answering murmur. He went low to the ground, almost to his knees and found cover in a table with a moldy, dry rotted table cloth situated near the door into the main ballroom. He crouched there, peering between strands of rotten linen and table legs. Two figures sat in the middle of the room, one was blocked mostly by the other.

He knew them both.

The fat one was rocking slowly, back and forth, he had managed to bend his knees and had his ankles crossed, he was gripping his knees.

The General was sitting up, but he was leaning over his lap, head down and Ed couldn't see his face. He looked around to see, if by chance, any of the others where there. But no, they were accounted for; they had all fallen.

He had no idea what had become of Dante, and he really didn't care.

Ed watched as Gluttony lifted his nose to the air and took a deep breath. He held it, released it, and then took another. He tilted his head back and forth, as if he was trying to place something, then he'd shake his head and take another, long, deep breath.

“He can smell you,” said a voice behind him.

Ed startled hard, whirling and coming half to his feet. His shoulder hit the table and rattled it and he gaped at the girl behind him.

“I told you to get out of here,” he half whispered, but why was he bothering, he was heard, he knew it.

“You did,” she said, walking past him, “I just decided not to.” She walked straight to Gluttony, stopped just beside where he sat on the floor. The sin chortled and looked up at her, then he looked over at Ed.

Ed returned the even gazed of the sin; he dare not look at the General who had raised his head. He knew better. But he'd already given himself away.

“This one is here to take your alchemist,” the woman told Gluttony. “He said so to me outside, he called him a General and he said he was coming to get him.”

Gluttony surged to his feet.

“He can't, He's MINE,” the homunculus shrieked. “If he tries he'll be very sorry, but he'll be sorry anyway!”

“You said you were hungry,” the woman told him. “So I brought you this so you wouldn't be thinking of that one,” and she nodded her head at Roy.

“What... what the hell lady! Do you know what that thing _is_?” Ed yelled across the expanse toward them. “Do you have any idea?”

“No,” she said back, calmly enough. “But does it matter? Does it matter now? I've come all t his way, the least he could do is try. He can try to make it work. I'll take the risk, I've seen the gain,” she looked at Gluttony again.

Ed started to open his mouth, tell them just how full of shit they were and Roy could never work this array, but he caught the slight shake of the General's head, his one eye trained intensely on Ed and Ed swallowed it down, clenched his fists.

Gluttony stood, staring in Ed's direction, tilting his head back and forth, back and forth. He pushed one pudgy digit to the corner of his mouth and then broke into a grin that was all sunshine and homicide.

“I know you!” he squeaked in glee. “I know you! I KNOW YOU!” And he surged forward with speed that could never come from human anatomy.

The General broke then.

“ED RUN,” he screamed, scrabbling to his own feet.

Run? Run where? Run and leave the General here?

It was just that quick, the thought had barely strolled across his mind and Gluttony was on him, he backpedaled desperately, his back hitting edge of the door jamb, he tried to throw himself around it, but a hand caught his shoulder, spinning him and then the same hand grabbed the back of his neck.

He twirled again, like a toy ballerina and a fist closed over his automail arm, between the shoulder and the elbow. He was facing Roy, head held stiff by the unbreakable grip around his neck from behind. Fleshy fingers pressed into the sides of his throat and he was marched like a toy toward the center of the room, but not to close to the General who stood there, looking like a ghost in a uniform.

“Fullmetal Alchemist,” Gluttony said with glee. “It's another one!” he called over to Luludja.

“You're mistaken,” Roy said, voice suddenly calm and authoritative. “This man is not part of the military.”

Gluttony looked momentarily confused. He looked at Roy, then pulled Ed back to look down his body. Ed was not in a uniform and Roy hoped, he fucking _prayed_ , he could play off this creatures literal streak.

But whatever else the ingested stone had done to the homunculus, it had made him so eerily sharp and lucent, at least, at the important times.

“Yes he is,” Gluttony said in the voice of a person who has caught on they were being teased. “He never wore an uniform before, either. I know what I smell.”

Ed was panting shallowly, his flesh hand reached up to tug at the fingers on the side of his throat and Gluttony gave him a hard shake and Ed dropped his hand way.

The woman cleared her throat and looked at Gluttony.

“We can use this, you can use one of them to make the other obey,” she told him.

“Why are you doing this, what do you think you will gain?” Roy suddenly asked. “What do you see in this creature that is so appealing? It lacks a soul, it lacks a conscience, it lacks all the basic things required to be human. Why would you want to give up what you are to only be a replica and a poorly constructed one at that?”

“What I am? What am I? I'm nothing. I come from a poor family, I was an unwanted burden, another mouth to feed. I would never claw my way up without a man to marry me, to take me away from that, from the drudge and toil and child rearing. I didn't want that, I didn't deserve that, just because I was born to it. He came,” she pointed at Gluttony. “He showed me how I could be different, special, _better_.”

“He's a murderer, he kills people to get what he wants, you think that makes him better?” Roy asked incredulously. “You think the power to take lives makes you superior? You don't need to be a soulless husk for that, just pick up a gun.”

“Your vision is so narrow,” she said. “You think the only good in the world is human. How do you know this? I know bad, I know humans just as bad if not worse and for less reason! His cause is his cause, who are we to judge what is noble? He's looking for lost love, he's come this far just for that. Love drives us all, how can he be without a soul when he _feels_ so deeply? Who are you to tell me what makes a soul?”

Gluttony kept looking back and forth between them, and though he had seemingly forgotten he hand Ed in his grip, Ed was reminded all to quickly when he suddenly tried to bring his hands together.

“You're a bad alchemist!” Gluttony hissed. “You'll have to do what I say! But I know that you can make the circle like that! I'll just have to make it so you can't!” And the sin tightened his grip on Ed's automail, twisted it sudden and violent and ripped the arm right out of the port. Ed's eyes widened in a look of horrific disbelief and then he screamed.

It had happened so fast, so matter-of-fact that Roy's own cry of denial was already drown in Ed's shriek of pain.

Gluttony lifted the metal arm, sniffed it, then opened his mouth wide and bite off the end of it, the part that had been attached to Ed's shoulder socket. He seemed to chew it thoughtfully and Roy was moving before he knew it.

“Let him go you fuckin'...” but he didn't finish because Gluttony spit out the metal he'd been chewing and winged the automail arm right at Roy's head. The General twisted to get out of the way, but it glanced off his temple on his blind side and he stumbled and feel to his knees, reaching up to cover the spot, seeing sparkles.

“Enough, you, do it!” Gluttony pointed at Roy, pointed at the array. “Do it!”

“I...I don't know...” but Roy's remaining eye widened when Gluttony leaned his open mouth over Ed's shoulder. “I'LL DO IT, DON'T...” he said. Gluttony stopped, hovered there, the pulled his head back and away.

“Don't be...fucking idiot...,” Ed gasped-sobbed, “going to kill us...anyways...”

Gluttony shook Ed violently and tightened his grip on Ed's throat and Ed gagged and his eyes bulged.

“I won't do it if you kill him!” Roy said. “If you kill him, you might as well kill me! I won't help you if you hurt him any further!”

Gluttony peeled his lips back and pulled Ed back to his chest and hooked his chin over his shoulder.

“I can make him die screaming, cursing your name, slowly, bite by bite,” he cooed.

“You better do what he says,” the dark skinned woman said.

It's not like there was any decision. Roy bowed his head and walked into the giant array that had been burnt on the floor by Edward himself in desperation long ago.

Gluttony shuffled forward excitedly and nodded to Luludja, who looked nervous, but determined. Ed reached up to claw at the fingers around his throat, and in some little act of mercy, Gluttony loosened them enough so he could draw breath to speak.

“You FUCKING MORON, don't give into this, you don't know what you're doing, what if you call the Gate?!” Ed rasped.

What if he did? Would it matter? He only knew the Gate from Ed's story. So to die here or in Ed's tale? Well, he was weak when it came to all things Ed.

“What...what do I do?” Luludja asked, eyes darting back and forth between the two alchemists.

“If you're lucky, you die before the Gate appears,” Ed sneered and Gluttony tightened his grip and shook him again.

“What is this gate?” Luludja asked to Gluttony himself. “Is it as bad as they say?”

“The Gate gives and it takes, is that good or bad? It's equivalent. It will want something to make you into what you were. I have the stone, so it can have that, and I have these alchemists, it can have them, that's more than enough trade.”

“How do you know it will appear?” she asked again.

“Human transmutation,” the General supplied. “Not that I have tried it before, or have ever seen this gate.”

“What about him?” she pointed at Ed.

“He's seen the Gate,” Gluttony hummed merrily. “That's why he needs two hands to make a circle.”

“Well why don't we use him instead?” Luludja reasoned.

“You should have thought of that before you pulled his arm off,” Roy snarled bitterly. “Let's just do this and get it over with, let's all go to hell together.”

“Stand with me,” Luludja said to Gluttony, casting glances at Roy. The sin grinned like all the world was smiling on him and rushed to her side, dragging Ed.

“Is there anything special I need to know as I activate this?” Roy said to his lover, so very close now. “Anything special to get it going?”

“No,” Ed croaked, “just pour yourself into it.” He sucked his lower lip and reached out with his flesh hand toward Roy. “I love you, yeah? I love you, it's ok, do what you have to.”

Ed's fingertips touched his sleeve, but before he could lift his hand to give a reciprocating touch, Gluttony jerked Ed out of reach.

Roy stood for a moment, then he knelt and laid his palms flat on the array. He didn't even try a last chance to reason, he just poured himself into it and it sang to him.

**

A shadow fell across him and he looked, but even in the shadow he had to squint. Everyone was staring upwards, Gluttony released Edward and Roy jumped to his feet and caught Ed as he staggered to the side. Everything around them fell away until there was just this place, bathed in pale light and this giant Gateway, riddled in reliefs of people twisted in agony and a single, monstrous eye carved to look like it was staring out from the doorway.

“Blank your mind,” Ed whispered raggedly, crushed to the General's chest. “Don't think of anything if you can. Whatever it asks you, just ignore it. It's hard, but you can do it, you can do it...” Ed turned his face against Roy's shoulder.

“This is the Gate?” the girl said in a wondrous voice. “What do we do here, do we open it?”

“It will opens, when it's ready,” the sin said slowly. “It will open when it is finished deciding if we have enough to offer.”

“Never enough to offer,” Ed whispered to the side of Roy's neck.

“It will make you one of us,” Gluttony said. “It will make you like me, no one can hurt you, no one can stop you. You are beautiful and terrible and everyone who sees you, wants you. You will be Lust. You will always ache and always hunger and never find satisfaction.”

“Wha..what?” she said, turning to look at the fat man round eyed.

“To embodies Lust is to always be hungry, like me,” the fat man nodded. “That is what makes Lust, the need for something. All we sins, we are interconnected, you and I, we were always together. Lust and Gluttony, between us, we could devour cities.”

“I don't know if I want this,” she said, taking a step back.

“It's too late now,” Gluttony told her cheerfully. “Don't be afraid. I'll be with you, we'll have everything you ever wanted. I can help you, I will stay with you, I won't leave you, don't be afraid. You will have power and everyone will curse themselves because they aren't you! You will have dominion over this world because you will be better than humans. Always, we are told, we are better than humans, so that makes it true, yes?”

“Everyone will want me? Women will curse themselves that they aren't who I am?” she asked slowly.

“Everything, everyone,” Gluttony purred.

There was the sound of groaning hinges and the doors began to open, slowly, surely, inevitably. Luludja took a few steps forward.

Edward's compassion was always bigger than himself and he could never contain it.

“Don't ask it for anything!” He called after her. “Don't be a fool!”

Roy pulled him down against him again, rocked him.

“Leave idiots to their own dead,” he said in Ed's ear.

Luludja turned a bit to look back at Gluttony, she smiled a little.

“What do I ask of it?” she said and then she was gone, simply gone. A multitude of snapping black ribbons and slight displacement of air and she was no longer there. Gluttony jumped and looked around, turned himself in a circle.

Ed suddenly tensed all over and Roy could hear it then, buzzing in his brain, bees and voices all mixed together. He would try to focus on one, than another, idea after idea pouring into his brain. The possibilities of what he could do, if only he could have this or that and there it was ripe for the picking, all he had to do was ask. But Ed beat him to it, like just about everything else.

“I DON'T WANT ANYTHING,” he screamed to those droning, incessant voices. “NOTHING, I WANT NOTHING. I GIVE NOTHING, I TAKE NOTHING.”

“Lu...Lust?” Gluttony said pitifully somewhere near them.

Roy shook hard. Ed could hear his teeth clicking together, grinding together and his arms around Ed tightened to the point of almost pain.

“Give me back my Lust,” Gluttony said to the air around him. “Where is she? Where is Lust?”

The Gate swung open a little wider.

“Lust? Is she there? Do you have her? You have her, give her to me!” and the sin rushed the Gate, arms outstretched and fingers grasping.

And the Gate, promising many things, slammed in Gluttony's face, just as he reached it, proving it was the faster of the two, all said and done.

And the light faded and the room went back to it's glow and the Gate was gone.

**

That is when Ed finally noticed that Roy was slumped against him, unmoving. He looked around for Gluttony and saw him wandering the far end of the ballroom.

“Lust...Lust...LUST,” the sin wailed, stopping to stare up at the balconies. “Lust, come down, I'm down here, LUST!”

Ed got up, then taking Roy by the hand in Ed's only remaining hand, he began to drag him toward the door. He had to get as much distance between them and Gluttony as he could before Gluttony came to his senses. Across the old wooden floor, through the foyer, to the street side just beyond.

“Roy, wake up, Roy, wake up,” Ed stage whispered urgently, glancing back at the opening to the building again. “Roy, you can't fucking lie here, I can't fucking carry you, now get your fucking ass up! ROY!”

The General would wake up. He would wake up and they would go home. Ed forced Roy into a sitting position, leaned him back against his knees and looked around. If there was something he could use as an impromptu sled of sorts? Anything he could lie Roy on and pull?

It was then Gluttony came stumbling out of the doors and Ed tensed. The sin swung his lumbersome form back and forth, his nose tilted to the air, sniffing.

Ed eased Roy over onto his side. He had to distract Gluttony, draw him away and hopefully lose him, come back, find Roy awake, slug him for worrying him and then go the hell home.

“WHERE'S LUST?!” the sin bellowed into the air, then he seemed to notice Ed there, fixing him with his tiny eyes and clenching his massive fists.

“The...the Gate took her,” Ed said, clearing his throat and backing away. “You were there, you saw it,” he didn't even glance at Roy, he had to keep all of Gluttony's attentions focused on him.

“You took her, didn't you? You did that, you told the Gate to take her,” the fat man sobbed, jiggling up and down in place.

“No,” Ed said, “No I...” but then he turned and ran. He ran the way a deer runs from a wolf, he ran the way a rabbit runs from a fox. He ran for his fucking life.

He could hear the grave thundering behind him.

They ran without words, they both ran to a different kind of desperation. Ed, being smaller, ducked and weaved, squeezed through passageways where the sin couldn't possibly follow. But sins, like bumbelbees, are impossibly possible, and Gluttony merely bulldozed his way through these spaces, knocking them aside or slithering through as if boneless.

Ed glanced once toward the overhead bridge, gaged where the stairs might be. The stairs leading up, away, toward the others, but instantly dismissed it. The military had provided Gluttony with enough nourishment as it was, and Ed wasn't one to take his troubles to others.

But he was mortal, so sickeningly human and frail. His lungs burned, his sides ached and his pace became uneven. He felt the brush of fingers on his back, then the grip on his remaining arm.

 _I'm sorry! I tried, I tried so hard. Please let them find you, take you out, get you someplace safe. Please don't tell Al how it happened._

He was dragged off kilter, whirled and thrown into the side of a building. He gasped and slid down the rough brick wall, instantly getting back on his knees, trying to get back on his feet. But just as he did, the sin would pounce again, grabbing and slinging him like a child with a doll. So effortless it was, to hurl him into the air, and so hard the ground was when he hit it.

 _Don't let this... don't let this be the end of all of you. Don't let me drag you down to nothing. Be who you were meant to be, who you should have been, despite me. Please Roy, please. I love you._

He tried to get to his knees again, because his body never listened to his head. He could hear the sin's footsteps on the ruin of a street.

“I didn't...” he tried again, “no one can tell the Gate what to do, you know that! I didn't tell it, it just took what it thought it needed.”

“LIES! LIES! ALCHEMISTS, ALWAYS THE ALCHEMISTS MAKING IT SO MUCH PAIN AND MISERY!”

 _You'll take care of us, right? You won't let him sell us._

“I never asked, no one ever asked me, but still, this is all that it is,” Gluttony said in a strange and woeful voice. Ed managed to get to his feet and look at the sin.

 _Where can we hide, you won't tell on us, will you?_

“All I ever wanted was to be...,” and Gluttony came to a lumbering halt, not more than five feet away. Ed shook with exhaustion and anxiety, but he knew to run would be to invite chase again.

“I only did, what I was told to,” Gluttony said, clenching and unclenching his fists. “It's better when no one depends on you.”

 _You're the only one who cares._

“It's better when you just do, what you are told and you don't try to do anything more, there is no good. You can't change it. I don't know why it was me, I was the worthless one, why was it me? I wish these things would go out of my head.”

“I'm sorry,” Ed said quietly. “I'm sorry you didn't have the choice.”

 _I'm sorry, I never gave you the choice. I missed you so much, but that's no excuse._

Gluttony looked up at him then, he held out one large hand, palm up.

“Why? Why do they do it? Don't they see what they've done? Was I so bad that this is my punishment? I never wanted this, but here it is, and this is what it is made of it. I just wanted her to tell me what to do. Tell me why, at least. You're an alchemist, you know.”

Ed wet his lips, reached up to hold his aching arm socket.

“I did it because I am selfish,” Ed said quietly. “I fool myself into thinking it was for love; but I'm not so sure, anymore.”

The sin nodded in a way that suggested sagely.

“When I can think about it and it let's me have the thoughts, I think that, too. They were selfish and they loved me. Selfish love is still love and any love is better than no love, don't you think so?”

Ed had never heard this thing speak more than perhaps a half dozen words strung together at any one time. The surreality of the situation was catching up to him. Maybe they were all inside the Gate.

“Well, don't you?” Gluttony prompted.

“Sometimes I think the line between love and hate is blurred,” Ed said, because why not? He was dead any way you looked at it, why hold anything back? “It takes a long time to get to that. But it can be done.”

“You're wrong,” the sin said. “You're wrong.”

“Am I? No, I don't think so. I think they stem, ultimately, from the same feeling inside,” Ed nodded. “And if they become blurred enough, then you can lose sight of what is good and evil. You can't tell anymore.”

Gluttony did the funniest thing. He did one of Roy's little circles of confusion. Just like that, that one simple spin. Ed almost felt himself smile and then he remembered where he'd left his lover, unmoving, unresponsive, lying on rubble.

“But am I good or am I evil?” the sin asked. “Does it matter?”

“Not always,” Ed said softly.

“If it doesn't matter, then it doesn't matter,” the sin sighed, he stuck his finger into his mouth, “I'm hungry,” he said around it.

Ed staggered back a few steps, that damn sense of self preservation just wouldn't let him do anything gracefully. At least he could ask Gluttony to make sure nothing was left, so there would be nothing to find. Wouldn't that be a mercy in and of itself?

The street around them began to ping and the building across the street began bursting out puffs of dust from the walls. Both Ed and Gluttony watched this curiously for a second, then Gluttony flinched and snarled and Ed noticed bullets lying on the ground all around the sin. They were bouncing off his head and back.

“GET A FUCKING MOVE ON, ED,” Havoc shouted from the cover of a nearby building, “THIS WON'T DISTRACT HIM FOR LONG!”

No, it wouldn't distract him at all. He wanted to shout to Havoc, tell the man to run, to get Roy, to take him home. There was no point in running.

Then the wall of flame struck, it came like a tidal wave right down the street. Funny thing that while it hit Gluttony square in the back, it managed to split and leave Ed only in the wake of it's passing heat.

Gluttony howled in anger or pain, Ed wasn't sure which and he turned away. He actually turned away from the easiest meal, to look down the street.

“It was YOU, YOU told the Gate to take her. It was YOU wasn't it?” Gluttony howled at his new attacker and shook, clenching his fists, baring his teeth.

The General said nothing from where he knelt, array scratched into the paving stone at his feet.

And Ed found the will to fight again.

Roy pressed his hands to the array a second time and the fire came again, wrapping and snaking it's way along and the sin opened his mouth and gave a mighty inhale, and this time the flame disappeared into his maw.

More gunfire and Ed's found he could run again, but he didn't run away, he tried to circle around the sin and the gunfire stopped and he heard Havoc's angry shout about hitting him, and to stop being a bonehead.

Gluttony noticed him then, shrieked incoherent rage, but before he could lunge the fire came again, and he couldn't swallow it all this time and he turned from it.

 _Roy, Roy, Roy_

“ED, GET DOWN, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” the General shouted above the noise of more gunfire.

“WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE YOU STUPID FUCK, COMING TO SAVE YOUR STUPID ASS,” Ed shouted back, pelting down the street toward him.

Then he was there and the General grabbed him and for a moment it was just the two of them, Ed pressed to Roy's chest. And then Ed was behind him and Roy was kneeling again to touch is array.

This time, as the flames came, the sin raised both of his arms and slammed his fists into the street below them. A slab of the stone there rose up in response, effectively blocked most of the flame before slamming down again. But the damage stone didn't stop there, huge cracks began to zig zag crazily away from the weakened area. One of them came toward them.

Ed pushed around Roy, put his fingertips on the array there. Everything around them was weak and trembling.

“I can use this, I can drop the street out from under him,” Ed said. “With all the shit going around though, it might drop us as well.”

The General gave a short nod, then he shouted.

“Lieutenant Colonel, get to the surface, THAT'S AN ORDER,” he bellowed in the direction of the spotty gunfire. “Tell them to close it!”

“THEN LET'S GO, SIR!” Havoc yelled back.

“How do we do this?” Roy asked, turning to look at Ed.

“You push, I'll drive,” Ed replied with a lop sided grin.

The General placed his palms on the array just as the sin hurled himself in their direction. Ed pressed his fingers as it to embed them in the stone and the alchemic reaction lit up the street, a dazzling dancing combination of red and blue, winding around each other.

The street below them seemed to sigh, groan, pop and then heave upwards, splitting neatly along the cracks already made.

The reaction abruptly died as Roy and Ed were thrown off balance, all of their hands leaving the array, but the destruction had already begun and chaos only grudgingly gave up what was offered into it's clutches. The sin pitched back and forth like a small ship in high seas and Ed hit the pavement and rolled downwards. He felt a grab on his sleeve, fingers there and gone. He came up against another stone, surging up from below like a mountain being raised and then the General's body hit him.

There was scrabbling, no words, the General managed to roll over, grab Ed's remaining arm as the world disintegrated below them. No time for words, only time for actions.

Roy kissed him as the bottom opened up and they fell.

**

His mother smiled down at him. He felt the warmth of her hand on top of his head. She stood back up and wiped her hands on her apron.

“When you're bigger, you're going to be an alchemist, just like your father,” she said.

 _No, not like his father._

She turned to the wash hanging on the line, straightened the sheet there before clothes pinning it to keep the spring breeze from snatching it away.

 _Do you forgive me for robbing you of your choice?_

Now she was there in a gown that hung to the ground, and gloves that masked her arms to the elbows.

“You really are just like your father,” she said, picking up another sheet to hang on the line. Doing it in an absurdly formal manner. She smiled over her shoulder at him.

 _Do you forgive me?_

“Is it really my place?” she asked.

And he stood there in his younger self and twisted his fingers as she continued to hang washing on the line.

 _If you won't, then who will?_

“The man you will become,” she said, the smile never leaving her face.

The breeze lifted his bangs, bringing with it the smell of sunshine and linen.

 _But will he?_

**

Ed opened his eyes slowly. For a few moments he just lay, surrounded by all white. It took several moments for him to realize that all this white wasn't the nothingness he presumed it was and, in fact, he was not dead. Even if every little twitch of muscle sent painfully shocking messages of disbelief of his undeadness directly into his brain. And would he stop trying to fucking move, please?

“He's awake!” Al appeared from nowhere, from nothing, right into his line of vision, as if by magic. He made a small inquisitive sound and his brother smiled down at him.

Then there was Riza, comforting in her uniform, she stood beside Al and gave Ed a look of scrutiny.

Ed licked his lips, but couldn't quite form words yet. Al's hand touched his forehead, lay softly there and stroked back once, over his head.

“Professor Elric, you're going to give me a full report why you were in a restricted military zone,” Colonel Hawkeye said. “I will grant you recovery time, however, before you are debriefed.”

She was being so generous. Maybe he wasn't dead but he was dying. Yeah, that's why she was being so nice.

Al leaned over, kissed his brother's forehead and then stood back up.

Ed had a thought, maybe... maybe there was another reason they were being so nice. Maybe it was because he wasn't dead or dying... maybe it was because...

“He's fine! He's fine, he's right over there,” his brother, his beautiful, perceptive to the point of frightening brother said. “He's asleep, but he was awake earlier, he's very worried about you.”

He let everything go then, all the tension, all his breath and felt like he flatted out, like road kill after a particularly large truck had passed by. Like Al, that one time, in the armor. He gave a small, half laugh.

“It's late, and you need more rest,” Al said gently. “We'll be back in the morning, I'll bring you breakfast.”

Al really did love him; he wouldn't have to eat hospital food.

When they left they dimmed the lights to a blissful level and Ed could just float. He turned his head slowly, but the curtain between him and the next bed was half way drawn, and all he could see were some blanket covered legs.

So he studied the pattern of the ceiling tiles for a while. Then he wondered how pissed off at him Winry was going to be; and then he wished the General was awake.

And that too happened, as if by magic, because he was just suddenly there.

The General's hand smoothed over his face, his fingers threaded through his bangs and Ed smiled in a dopey, dreamlike way. Because even if this wasn't really the General? This was one hell of a kick ass dream.

Roy leaned over him then and he eagerly parted his lips. The kiss was warm and salty, and the General pushed himself back to sitting and just kept smiling.

He looked different somehow, and Ed couldn't quite place it. There was something about him, niggling there in the back of his brain. Something was off and the more he tried to focus on it, the more it slipped away.

“Tired?” Roy asked and Ed shook his head a tiny, tiny bit. The General made himself more comfortable there on the bedside.

Dammit, what was so different about him?

“We made it,” the General said. “I think I'm the one to thank for it, a really wise man always told me I was one lucky bastard.” He grinned.

Ed found his voice, it was a scratchy barely audible thing.

“He got the bastard part right,” Ed croaked out.

The General laughed a little, and then leaned over to kiss him again. Ed preferred the kissing to words. He preferred feeling Roy warm and alive against his lips.

When he let Ed breathe again, he reached up to toy with his bangs, keeping his face close.

“I'm amazed they got us out, Havoc's doing, we owe him,” the General said softly.

Ed nodded, moved his flesh hand in slow, agonizing inches to press it to the General's hip, where it rested on the bed.

The General kept touching his face, his forehead and his hair.

“When I woke up, I couldn't find you right away. And when I did, you wouldn't... you didn't wake up and I couldn't make you,” the General touched his forehead to Ed's.

“ Sorry,” Ed grunted, “ you know... I make things difficult.”

“You can't leave me behind, never again,” the General said in a way that made Ed really move, turn his body toward the man, reach up and rest his hand on the General's chest.

Roy covered Ed's hand there, held it against him.

“I'm sorry I couldn't protect you, keep that thing from hurting you,” the General said.

“Don't be an idiot,” Ed grated out.

“But I promised, don't you remember? Before you left that first time,” Roy said.

“Yeah, and I promised first, or have you forgotten? Back when I was still jail bait and you were a raging pervert?” Ed grumbled.

Roy gently rubbed up and down his hand, keeping it where it was, he nodded once.

“See? Equivalent, even though we know that's a load of shit,” Ed sighed.

“I don't know,” the General said. “I don't know about that. Because I would have given anything. I thought... I thought you had left me.” The General tensed up all over. “I thought you had gone ahead again and were going to leave me behind. I can't do that again, Ed, I can't. I can't do this alone. I can't even conceive of being alone.”

“But you aren't...” Ed started.

“No, you don't get it. There is _no one else_. You are everything inside of me. You aren't just my lover, you are everything everyone has ever meant to me. Ed, all there is for me is _you_. I can never be what I was before you, and I don't ever want to be like that again. Because now? You have made me so much more than what I was, and I will die before I give that up, before I give you up. Never again.”

Ed, for once, was at a loss for words. His throat was thick and all these things he wanted to tell the General, they just wouldn't come. He made a helpless sound, curling the fingers of the hand Roy was holding into the man's hospital gown.

“All that I am, you have given me, and it's all I could ever want. So, no dying without me, alright? Promise,” the General insisted.

“That's fucking absurd, how can I promise something like that,” Ed said, trying to moderate the ragged edge to his voice.

They were interrupted by the room door swinging open and a young nurse who was coming in halted a bit in confusion in the doorway.

“General Mustang, you shouldn't be out of bed,” she said in a mildly scolding tone.

“Ah, sorry,” the General said. He smiled down at Ed, lifted the hand that was previously held to his chest and kissed Ed's fingers. “I'm keeping him awake.”

“Don't care,” Ed said, looking up into the General's face.

Roy eased Ed's hand back down, and slid off the side of the bed and stood up. And Ed, lying there so sore it hurt even to breathe suddenly lunged. He grabbed a fist full of Roy's hospital gown and yanked it savagely.

“Look at me!” he ordered his lover.

The General turned to smile down at Ed.

He had two eyes.


	24. Chapter 24

“Just what is it you know about straightening collars and fixing ties, exactly?” the voice was amused and the man stood still for the attention.

“Shuddup, I know what I know. I know how to clean up even if I don't do it often, this is a fucking wedding, y'know.”

“I assume we'll mind our language?”

“Yeah, fuck, I mean I will! Ok, you look presentable.”

He smiled and reached to cup his lover's cheek. The younger man's eyes roamed his face and as always were drawn to left side.

“Still not used to it?”

Ed flushed bright red.

“It's not that,” he said. “I just... you didn't sleep well last night.”

Roy smiled and shook his head.

“Nerves, you know, it's a wedding, right?”

Ed snorted and let him get away with it.

**

Two eyes. Roy had two eyes again.

The nurse made a tsking sound and Roy gave him a look that told him he'd say more later, then he woefully tugged his hospital gown free of Ed's grip and limped back to his own bed.

The nurse looked between them, and then followed Roy back to his bed. Ed could hear her murmuring softly and Roy's answering murmur. She busied herself a bit, came over to make sure Ed was tucked in and he ignored her.

He kept trying to push her out of the door with his gaze. She needed to get the fuck out of the room because he had to talk to Roy. He had to find out what the fuck went on and why... WHY did Roy have another eye?

It wasn't even the same color as his good eye.

Eventually she did leave, it seemed like hours. And the way she kept hovering more on Roy's side of the room and Ed could hear the soft murmuring of their voices. He was taken, the General was fucking taken and he didn't care if she was a woman he'd kick her ass.

He really would, when he could move again.

After the door shut he counted to ten; then: “Get over here.”

He heard the soft slide of sheets, the padding of feet on the floor and Roy hovered over him again and Ed squinted and then stared hard. He had his normal eye, his deep, dark, black eye and this...other one. It wasn't dark and it gave his face this strange, uneven look. It looked sort of muddy brown-green.

“Before you even ask, I don't now why,” Roy said softly. “And don't get excited, you'll get loud and bring her back in here,” he sat again on the side of the bed.

“Roy, did you ask?” Ed said slowly. “Did you ask the Gate for this?”

“No,” Roy said, almost vehemently. “You said I should clear my mind. I did! I know I did, and I've heard what you've said about your past. I listen. That is the thing that took your arm and leg. For the life of me, Ed, if I had asked for anything, it would have been that. I swear.”

“I know, I believe you,” Ed shifted a bit, winced and Roy moved to help him, made that little sound in his chest and he gently moved Ed to get him more comfortable. It was the sound, more than the repositioning that made Ed relax.

“So, does it work? I mean its like the Gate to do this, but then make it just ornamental,” Ed said. “And even then, to make it another color,” he sighed.

“It works,” Roy said. He ran his hand lightly over Ed's chest. “It's odd, looking in the mirror, but it works. Al was thinking the same things, only he wouldn't say anything to me about it. I take it that this Gate doesn't give things out for free.”

“No, it doesn't work like that, and the price of anything it gives is always to high,” Ed sighed. “But it took that woman, so maybe... I don't know. I can't second guess that thing, no one can.”

Roy claimed Ed's hand again, held it in his own, stroked his thumb back and forth slowly over the back of it, then turned it over and stroked over the wrist.

“That array, the one on the floor of the opera house. The homunculus said it turned armor into flesh,” Roy said quietly.

“That's what it was for,” Ed said, just as quiet, momentarily distracted from staring at Roy's face to look down at Roy stroking his hand.

“Is that why you went there? To do that? To turn Al back into a flesh and blood creature?” Roy asked.

“Originally? No, I went there to get Al, the homunculi had taken him. There was a woman named Dante, she wanted to use Al to free her soul from a rotting body and put it into a new one,” Ed said.

“It's obvious she didn't succeed. So what happened, why did you make the array?” Roy slid his thumb up into the palm of Ed's hand and Ed's fingers reflexively closed over it.

“Al sacrificed himself to save me,” Ed mumbled. “Envy, well for a lack of a better term, he killed me. No there is no better term, that's exactly what he did, he pushed his arm through my chest. I died. I died and went to the Gate,” Ed said. “I have the memory of it, I know that's what happened.”

Roy took a few deep breaths as he tightened his fingers around Ed's hand.

“So Al was the Philosopher’s Stone, and he used himself to bring you back,” Roy said. “To bring you back whole and not as one of those things.”

“Only by being the stone could he have done it,” Ed nodded. “But when he did it, he exhausted himself and vanished into the Gate. That is where his body was, anyways. I don't know if the Gate would have allowed his soul to re-enter his body, though.”

“So then you made the array,” Roy prodded gently.

“I made the array and offered myself in exchange for Al's body and soul,” Ed nodded. “Al was restored and I moved on through the Gate to the place I told you about, the other world,” he finished.

Roy went silent, still studying Ed's hand intently.

“I did what I had to do, I didn't want to leave you behind, but I had no choice,” Ed said. “Al is my brother, he's my only family. I did what I had to do for Al.”

“You'd do it again,” Roy murmured.

“In a heartbeat,” Ed sighed.

“Alphonse is lucky to have a brother like you,” Roy said, loosening his grip on Ed's hand a bit and looking up at him, a half smile on his face.

“All I could think about in those moments was Al,” Ed said. “I just reacted, because all of it had been for Al and I couldn't leave it like that. I couldn't let Al suffer in my place.”

“Ed, you don't have to justify it to me,” Roy said gently.

Ed shifted uncomfortably and tightened his own grip on Roy's thumb. He didn't meet the General's eyes _(that, too, was still uncomfortable because of the many possible implications)_ ,and he didn't know what else to say.

Eventually the General stood up and Ed made a small complaining sound as he tugged his hand free.

“You need to rest, and I'm tired, too. Let's get some sleep,” he leaned over and kissed Ed once, not lingering, then shuffled off toward his bed.

Ed lay there for a while, sleep coming no where near his brain. With slow deliberation he began to shove at his sheets. He freed one leg, and then the other and he gripped the bed rail with his only hand and agonizingly pulled himself into an upright position. It took many moments of schooling his breathing before he was able to turn both legs off the side of the bed and then slide to put his feet on the floor. His vision swam the moment he was upright and he had to grip the rail hard and tight for long moments before he could focus again.

He took a shuffling step forward, then another. He released the rail of the bed when he was forced to and just kept his eyes trained on the other bed just beyond the curtain. He'd dealt with worse in less favorable conditions. He really wished his body would do that hyper-adrenaline thing when there wasn't any danger, that would be sweet. But no, once his body figured out no one was trying to shoot him, or stab him, or eat him it completely wussed out and complained about every little ache and pain. Never mind he had a bruise the size of a small country along his back and ribs, his body, in general, was just a whiner.

Roy turned his head to look at him before he got all the way there. He raised his eyebrows and sat up.

“Ed, what are you doing? You shouldn't be up, have you seen yourself? You look like you're about to pass out!” The General slid out of his bed hastily and hurried forward to support him.

“Oh, I'm really surprised you're rushing over to help, usually when I'm about to pass out you just stand there and stare at me until it's too late,” Ed said, then winced when Roy took hold of his arm.

“You're never going to let me live that down, are you? Never mind you were just _back from the dead_.” Roy's bed was closer to them, so he maneuvered Ed there and sat him down on the edge.

“What are you doing getting up and walking around like that?” Roy demanded.

“Don't want to be over there and you way over here,” Ed said petulantly.

“How old are you again?” Roy said, exasperated.

“Still younger than you...I want to be in the same bed with you,” Ed said, dropping his eyes.

“Ed you're just one massive bruise, I could hurt you by just touching you, what if I roll into you or something?”

Ed remained stubbornly silent.

“Fine, then let's get you in here,” Roy knew there would be no arguing with an Ed who refused to argue; so he moved to help Ed get into the bed proper.

“No sneaking to the other bed when I'm asleep,” Ed warned, wincing as he slid and prodded and shifted to get comfortable, or at least as comfortable as he could be considering he really was one massive bruise.

After he got Ed settled as best he could, Roy climbed onto the bed. He froze every time Ed sucked in a breath or wrinkled his nose. It took a good half an hour before Roy could just lie down himself and he held himself away from Ed's side.

“I didn't say I would do it for you because I never want to be in that situation, where I would have to,” Ed blurted out.

 _Ah, this is what it's about._

“Ed, I don't want you to ever do anything like that for me. Never on account of me, ok? You look exhausted, go to sleep,” Roy sighed, the bed rail digging into his back.

“I love you just as much as I love Al, maybe not in the same way, but just as much,” Ed plunged on.

“Ed...” Roy started.

“All that...stuff you said to me, about never being alone again? I feel all that too, for you. I never want to be where you aren't, ever again. I mean not like we need to be together twenty four hours or nothing, because that's just crazy and we'd kill each other within the first eight, but I don't want to be somewhere that I know, when I get home, you won't be there,” Ed opened his eyes again.

The General reached over and stroked his thumb over Ed's bottom lip.

“Fuck, just fuck,” Ed sighed.

“Your perpetual guilt machine is an amazing device, it will never run out of fuel and it will never be destroyed. I suppose I should just try to appreciate it for what it is,” the General sighed.

“Screw you,” Ed huffed.

“Not in your condition, now go to sleep,” the General ordered gently.

Ed closed his eyes, not like he intended to obey or anything, but with Roy, right there beside him, it was insidiously easy to get drowsy. And he obeyed, whether he liked it or not.

**

“You look very handsome in formal wear, I really like the tails on the jacket, “ the bastard purred behind him as Ed went to check his neck tie in the mirror.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ed said, fussing with the points of his arrow tipped collar above the silk tie around his throat. “The buttons on those gray gloves are really tiny, you'll have to help me with them.”

“My pleasure, “ the General murmured. Ed watched him in the mirror. Roy lifted the trailing end of Ed's pony tail and pressed it to his lips.

“Hey, none of that,” Ed swallowed and turned his head pulling the ponytail out of Roy's grip. “We don't have time.”

Roy fetched the gloves and they stood facing each other while Ed slipped them on. Then Roy stepped closer and concentrated on the tiny button on the wrist of the glove, or at least he pretended to. He kept inching closer and closer so he could supposedly buttoned Ed's glove. He arched his hips into Ed's when he felt he was close enough.

“What are you doing?!” Ed softly wailed, stepping back. “Don't give me a boner! We'll be late! We can't be late, this is important!”

Roy sighed dramatically.

“Why do you get horny when we have things to do? Why don't you get horny on Sundays instead of sleeping under the newspaper on the couch with a bowl of chips on your stomach and your dog between your legs? That's the time to get horny!” Ed bustled away, going for his handkerchief that was lying on top of the chest of drawers.

“R.D. is suppose to make me horny?” Roy grimaced.

“What? NO! Stoppit, we'll be late!” Ed fled the room then and Roy smiled, shoved his hands in his pocket and strolled out the door to follow him.

**

They all kept murmuring right behind the curtain. Al stuck his head around the curtain once and then ducked back quickly.

“OK, what the fuck are you guys plotting over there?” Ed finally snarled. “I've been in this dump three whole fucking days and I'm bored out of my skull. Instead of being over here entertaining me and fawning over my every word because I'm _injured_ y'know, your over there playing espionage with Roy! I know, I'll just get up and come over there and join the party,” Ed threatened. Getting him to stay in the bed was taking some doing.

“No, no!” Al called quickly, then pushed the curtain all the way aside. “We're just talking about the discharge from the hospital,” Al conceded.

“I'm being discharged?!” Ed said excitedly.

“Well, not you,” Al said with a tight smile.

“YOU CAN'T GO HOME AND LEAVE ME HERE,” Ed suddenly screeched. “IT'S NOT FAIR, YOU WERE THERE TO, YOU CAN'T LEAVE WITHOUT ME, IF YOU TRY TO LEAVE WITHOUT ME I'LL BREAK YOUR LEGS TO GIVE YOU A REASON TO STAY!” he howled.

“Brother, Brother, _Brother_ , PLEASE don't shout anymore! The nurses all give us funny looks and snub us in the hall,” Al came hurrying over. “Don't worry, I'll be here and Roy is going to visit as much as...”

Ed reached out and grabbed Al with the only appendage he had for grabbing things.

But then Roy was there, gently extracting Al's shirt from Ed's fingers. Ed snarled and growled and grabbed onto Roy's hand instead.

“Edward,” Roy said calmly, “I was in far better condition than you when they brought us in. I'm being discharged because I don't have to be carried to the bathroom and I don't threaten the nursing staff with physical violence over sponge baths.”

Ed continued to snarl like a blond, three legged jackal and he even bared his teeth.

“I have things to attend to. For one I have to inspect the area and make sure it was properly sealed and there are no signs of the fugitive homunculus we met in the underground city. I also have a political rally to attend, because I don't want to be out of the public eye for very long with a bid for the Prime Minister's seat in the works,” he let Ed keep the death grip on his fingers.

Ed's snarl slacked off and in its place came a look of baffled confusion and then a halting, wounded sort of understanding.

“Al, can you give us a few moments?” the General asked.

Al nodded once, then slipped out, pulling the door shut behind him.

“Political rally?” Ed said, making no attempt to disguise the hurt.

“Edward, you're not in any danger, you're recovering nicely,” Roy said. “I've been working on this for a long time, we both have effort invested in this. I think, and my publicist thinks now is a very good time to put in as many appearances as I can, considering what just happened.”

“Publicist? Is that who you were on the phone will all yesterday?” Ed said.

“Yes, any publicity is good publicity,” Roy nodded.

“This is because of what I said about Al, about the Gate and the stone and when we were there before. Because of the array,” Ed said.

“No, Ed, it's not.”

“Yes it is, you're holding that against me.”

“It's not, why would I do something as petty and ridiculous as that? Edward, you know what I'm saying makes perfect sense. Especially the part about wanting to make sure Gluttony is not roaming around.”

“I agree with the Gluttony part,” Ed said tightly, “but it is. You're hurt, you're jealous. You think I love Al more than I love you. You don't think I'd be willing to make the same sacrifice.”

“You know what? You're being ridiculous and unreasonable and I'm not going to have this discussion. We both know, and you have even agreed, that if I really meant to win this election I need to do what it takes. This is what it takes.”

“Even over me? That's it, isn't it? Now that I said that about Al, I'm not on the priority list anymore, isn't that right?”

“Of all the insanely infantile things you could say,” Roy snarled. “You're not a child anymore. You have no reason to be behaving this way. As if I would hold your love of your brother in any sort of jealous regard is just unimaginable. I love your brother, too, in case you haven't noticed.”

“Just go on and do what you want to do Roy! You're going to do it anyways! I'll be fine, I don't need you here. I can take care of myself. Al doesn't even have to stay here. I'm used to it, you know? I'm used to it, so just get the fuck out already. I want to go to sleep.”

Roy caught him by the chin then, forced him to turn his head and look at him. Look at this strange, new Roy, with two mismatched eyes and a scowl.

Ed set his jaw, stubbornly and kept his eyes on Roy's.

Roy's look evened out, softened. He sighed and leaned forward. Not even Armstrong could hold Ed back when Roy wanted to kiss him and he wanted to be kissed. They did that for a moment or two and Roy's grip on his chin turned to a caress. When Roy pulled back they tilted foreheads together.

“Sorry,” Ed mumbled, “I'm all nerves.”

“I'm sorry, too,” Roy said, “I absolutely swear I will be here every night to eat dinner with you, besides, you won't be in here to much longer. A few more days, the end of the week you can probably go home,” he reassured.

Ed gave large, pitiful sighs the entire time Roy and Al went through all the preparations to take Roy home. Roy went home at precisely 5:12 in the afternoon. He was back by 7:18, he came striding into the room and looked his lover square in the eye.

“I can't sleep alone,” he said.

Ed grinned like all the world was in love and scooted over slowly to make room on the bed.

**

“You look tired, you haven't been sleeping well lately,” Ed said as he paused by the passenger side of the car for Roy to unlock the door.

“I heard you the first time you brought that up, and I said it's just nerves, it will be fine,” he gave Ed a kiss on the end of his nose and held the door open for him.

“But it's not just this last couple of days...,” Ed began then he got in the car when Roy nodded his head and the general shut him in. He watched Roy walk around the front of the car and straighten his cuffs before climbing in himself.

“You got the directions?” Ed asked again.

Roy patted his jacket pocket and fished out the key from his pants to start the car.

“You know where we're going, right?” Ed fussed with his own cuffs and reached up to flip his ponytail over his shoulder.

“I have a pretty good idea,” the general reassured him.

“You having bad dreams again?” Ed ventured.

Roy cranked the car and put it in reverse, turning to look over his shoulder as he backed down the drive.

They didn't talk about it really, the new eye. Ed thought maybe it was for the best that they didn't really make it a topic of discussion regularly. But he did live with the man, love with the man, sleep with the man, and he knew there were things Roy wasn't telling him.

Roy hadn't been teasing that night in the hospital, several months earlier, he really couldn't sleep alone. They always slept closely, usually Roy spooned to Ed's back, an arm draped lightly over Ed's waist. But now, it was if he couldn't get close enough, and the hug was more like a clutch and sometimes he would tense and breathe very hard against the back of Ed's neck. How could Roy think Ed didn't notice?

“When are you going to tell me what you're seeing?” Ed said as Roy put the car in drive and headed to the stop sign at the end of the street.

The Gate does nothing without a price. And even though this was an unintentional thing, it was anything but a gift. They didn't speak about why the exchange might have been made, or whose eye was now occupying what use to be an empty place in Roy's face.

“I've always had bad dreams,” Roy finally said, staring straight ahead. “You know that.”

“Yes, but you've been having them more frequently lately. They seemed to have tapered off somewhat before... yeah, well, they did. Now they seem to be back to make up for lost time,” Ed murmured.

“They are just bad dreams, they make no sense,” Roy said, turning on the blinker to signal a turn onto the thoroughfare. “I forget them in the morning.”

Ed remembered the urge to look. To search every inch of Roy's pale skin for any sign of redness, of a mark, of a serpent. But, of course, there was none, as he knew there wouldn't be and he felt ashamed of himself afterwards, but he still had to look.

The Gate had taken a woman, given an eye and instilled doubt. The doubt, to Ed's mind, was the cruelest thing by far it could have done.

“You're being awfully calm about this,” Roy said with a half smile, and Ed started wondering what he could possibly mean by it.

 _Taking what awfully calm? The fact you mumble in your sleep in languages that are half dead and you try to climb into my skin with me and you shudder and groan in the middle of the night and I have to lie awake and listen to it?_

“You were more agitated as you planned his birthday,” Roy grinned, “but here you are about to watch him married off and you aren't even twitching an eye. I'm proud of you.”

 _He's talking about the wedding!_

Damn you, fuck you, hate you Gate.

“Yeah, so? I figure what's the point of freaking out? I'm just his older brother, not his mother,” Ed grumbled.

“Be still my heart! Have you finally managed to cut the apron strings?” Roy grinned merrily, but his eyes never left the road.

“Fuck you, just because I happen to care about my little brother,” Ed slouched in the seat.

“No, no! We all thought your insanely overprotective streak was adorable,” Roy laughed.

“Just drive and plug your pie hole, Mustang,” Ed snorted loudly.

**

“You have visitors,” Al said, leaning in the doorway, smiling.

“Granny and...and... Winry?” Ed swallowed.

Al said nothing, just grinned and ducked out, then swung the door wide to let them in.

Seth poked his head in, only to be pushed in by Daniel. Eric, Duffy and Richard brought up the rear and they all slunk into the room, looking around nervously and lined up at the foot of Ed's bed and shifted all around, elbowing and shouldering each other.

Behind them came Miss Bloom, a large potted plant in her hand, a smile on her face and a sweater over her arm.

“I'll just take this opportunity to pop out for some lunch,” Al said in a cheerful 'leaving you to your fate' tone. “You guys can keep him company for me while I'm gone.”

“Well be glad to,” Miss Bloom simpered. Al kept his plastered smile in place and then ducked out the door before Ed's glare of death reached him.

“Oh Professor Elric, we all miss you at the academy,” Miss Bloom sang out and came over to set the plant on the beside table. She sat it right on top of Ed's notebook that he'd asked Al to bring to him so he could scribbled down everything that happened before he forgot.

“The boys have been very concerned, so I thought we'd make a nice visit to cheer you up and speed along your recovery,” she twittered.

Ed stared at the boys, and they all stared back at him.

“Oh... that's uh, thoughtful,” he said.

“Boys,” Miss Bloom gestured.

Daniel elbowed Duffy hard in the ribs and he in turn took his aggression out on Eric, by stepping on the instep of his foot. Eric muffled his cry and gave Richard and shove in the arm and Richard kneed Seth in the butt and Seth shuffled forward and stuck an envelope in Ed's face.

Ed would have reached up to take it, but it was, as luck would have it, on his right side. So he had to reach across his body, and when he did Seth's eyes grew the size of basketballs and he turned a little pale.

“Thank you, Seth,” Ed said, noting the look. “I just had a little accident, I'll be fine,” he quickly reassured.

The other boys caught Seth's look and Ed groaned inwardly at the sudden look of intense curiosity on Daniel's face.

“You're arm is gone, cool!” Daniel said.

“Daniel Stanton, that is far from cool! The Professor was injured in a covert military operation!” Miss Bloom said in her most scolding manner.

“How did you lose it?!”

“Explosion?!”

“Terrorists?!”

“Monsters?!”

“Aliens?!”

“All of the above,” Ed said, trying to open the sealed envelope one handed.

“Did it hurt?” Seth wibbled, nibbling at his fingertips.

“Were you scared?” Duffy asked wide eyed.

“Did you kick their ass? Ooops, sorry,” Daniel said, cringing a bit from Miss Bloom's stare.

“Was it really a covert military operation?” Richard gushed.

“Are you insured?” Eric inquired.

“I wonder just how covert it was, considering you all seem to know about it,” Ed said, finally shoving the corner of the envelope into his mouth and picking at the seam of the flap with his finger.

“It was in the paper, I have it in my Fullmetal Alchemist scrapbook,” Seth said. “It was a very interesting article written by Withmore Seltzer. You know, he usually writes with to much sensationalism, but this was pretty sensational. However, the article lacked any real substance other than mentioning your name as being called in from the reserves. I didn't know there was an Alchemists Reserves Unit.”

Well, neither did Ed. Nice spin, Roy, nice spin.

“Tell us what really happened,” Daniel pressed.

“No way,” Ed said, muffled by envelope. “There is a really scary Colonel named Hawkeye who'd kick my ass from here to Drachma and back, then she'd serve up my balls to...,” Ed glanced over at Miss Bloom, “uh, sorry.”

Miss Bloom smiled in a strained polite way and tugged a little at her collar.

“My goodness, you boys and all your questions. I'm sure the Professor would rather hear how your studies were going. I'm only giving them text book assignments you understand. This has brought to the attention that we need another qualified alchemy teacher on staff, especially if you get called away on... missions,” and Miss Bloom tugged at her collar again and her eyes traveled up and down his sheet covered body and Ed felt positiviely naked.

“So, how goes your studies?” Ed drawled, spitting out the envelope and scowling at it.

The boys all shuffled a bit and hemmed and hawed over nothing and that was good enough for Ed.

Miss Bloom suddenly reached right into his lap, picked up the envelope and opened it neatly, edged the card out just enough so Ed could take it and returned it to his lap. Her knuckles almost touched him and he tried hard to sink into the mattress.

Ed managed to wiggle the card free of the envelope after he was sure Miss Bloom wasn't going to try to touch him again and he laid the card on his lap and flipped it open. It was pretty standard get well card, but every corner of the inside was filled with names. Someone had even drawn a flamel on it.

“This is great, thanks,” Ed said, looking up and smiling.

The boys all shuffled around and studied their shoes. Finally Daniel spoke up.

“Hurry up and come back, it's dead boring in class now,” he said, not meeting Ed's eyes.

It was the nicest get well wish he'd ever gotten.

**

“We've missed the turn,” Ed said, “let me see the direction card.”

“We haven't, for the umpteenth time, we're going the right way,” Roy said, exasperated.

“I think we've gone too far! Why won't you let me see the damn card? You're lost and you don't want to admit it!” Ed groused.

Roy dug the card out of his pocket and shoved it in Ed's face, then gripped the steering wheel with both hands and snorted.

Ed studied the card intently, then looked at every road sign for the next mile and a half.

“Well?” Roy demanded.

“I got Oberton confused with Oakton,” Ed said loftily, folded his arms and looked out his window.

“So, Al's getting married,” Roy said. “I have complex feelings about this. I know Al isn't really my son, but it feels that way, a bit,” he looked over at Ed.

“I'm happy, I am,” Ed said. “One of us needs to do it right, you know, carry on the family name. Won't be me,” he glanced at Roy and gave a lopsided grin.

“Did you want kids, Ed?” Roy asked. “I never thought about it for myself, but what about you, did you see yourself with a family?”

“Al is my family, you are my family. Winry and Granny, they are my family. I have lots of family,” Ed nodded. “If Al wants to add to it, I'm happy, but I don't really feel the need myself.”

“Well, we don't want the fine family name of Elric to slip away,” Roy said with a small smile. “That is, if Al wants kids. I think Al would make a fine father, his problem, of course, is he married the military in a the form of a woman, and I'm not to sure how that would sit with her.”

“What about the fine name of Mustang? You never talk about your family...I've never asked,” and Ed felt another twinge, a gear on the machine set to a higher number.

“There are other Mustangs,” Roy said. “There really isn't much to talk about,” he continued. “My parents have been gone for a while.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't know,” Ed turned to look at him. “That's really selfish of me, that I never asked.”

“Ed, you and Al, you're all the family I need,” Roy thumbed the steering wheel, bent his head to check an overhead road sign. “I never thought I'd have a family, but I do. That's more than enough for me...this is our turn,” the General put the blinker on and slowed.

It was a fine, large, gothic structure of untold years. It loomed over them, stretching toward the heavens with it's massive white columns and bronze ornamentation of things with wings beseeching the skies.

Ed noticed Breda hiding off to the side of one column sipping from a flask. He noticed them, capped his flask and hurried to join them.

“There is a sweet set up out back,” he said. “They already got the kegs lined up under this big tent. As soon as we get this crap out of the way we can really get to the business.”

“This 'crap' is a wedding,” Ed said, following Roy to the giant mahogany double doors.

“It's a two-for-one, so there should be plenty of booze,” Breda crowed as the General got one of the doors open after several hard tugs and he followed them into the church.

**

As predicted, at the end of the week, Ed got to go home. He went home with instructions, restrictions and medication, all of which he promptly forgot the moment Roy helped him hobble into the foyer.

“I'm home,” Ed said in a funny little squeaky voice that made Roy grin like an idiot.

Ed wanted to shuffle around the living room aimlessly and Roy could not dissuade him, so he stood leaning in the arch as Ed carefully examined everything he'd seen a million times before. Then R.D. realized something was up in the house and came charging through his dog door. Roy heard the hurried clicking on dog nails on hard wood and watched the little terrier beeline right by him and into the living room to start running circles around Ed's feet.

“R.D., I'm home,” Ed squeaked again and the tone was just right to send R.D. into a spasm of yapping joy.

Ed couldn't quite bend over to pet him, so R.D. helpfully jumped up onto the couch, but he was dancing back and forth so much, Ed couldn't lay a hand on him. Finally Ed gave up, hobbled by Roy smiling up at him and started for the den, R.D. at his heels.

“Edward, the house hasn't changed in the week you've been gone. Come on, let's get you back in bed,” the General coaxed gently.

“No, I've been in bed for a week, I'm fine,” Ed insisted, making it to the doorway of the den. “I just want to check things out, see if you've rearranged anything or left any dirty dishes laying around. You know you're bad about that, you leave them laying around all the time, I always see them just lying there,” Ed said shuffling into the den.

“Ok, so why don't you pick them up and take them to the kitchen?” Roy asked, leaning on the den doorjamb, arms crossed.

“Why should I? They're _your_ dirty dishes,” Ed said.

He would tire out in a bit, the least Roy could do was indulge him a slow crawl through the house. He was recovering nicely, still sore as hell from the bruising, but all the other little things that caused worry were pretty much on the road to recovery. Roy was thankful Ed really did seem to have as hard a head as everyone teased him about.

Ed came back out of the den and headed down the hall toward the kitchen. It was then, when they'd been home less than half an hour that the doorbell chimed. Roy looked at Ed and raised his eyebrows and Ed frowned and nodded toward the door.

Roy went to answer it, stepped back, gave a little half bow and looked down the hall at Ed, smiling. Ed made a small pitiful sound in the back of his throat.

“ED!” Winry Rockbell yelled, fist not clenching the strap of the case over her shoulder, clenched. “What have you done now?! Do you know what it's like getting these phone calls? You never tell me _anything_! It's your life long mission to keep me in the dark! Why were you in the hospital? What could you possibly be doing _now_ that you're a teacher to get your ARM RIPPED OFF?!” and she bared her teeth.

She stepped into the hallway and Ed looked at Roy with nothing short of terror in his eyes.

“The General's not going to save you, he knew I was coming,” she growled.

Ed gasped in wounded betrayal and looked at Roy.

“Even though you have sold me out, I still love you,” he told the man.

“I'm sorry, but I didn't know how to bring it up,” the General sympathized. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn't call her, Al did.”

Ed gasped again.

Winry leaned down to pet R.D. who stood perfectly still for her. Even R.D. seem to have chosen sides, and he wasn't hedging his bets.

Ed, despite Winry being in the same direction, started to shuffle toward the General with his flesh arm outstretched.

“Don't leave me alone with the mean lady,” he pleaded.

“I'm going to go and pay for her taxi,” Roy said, slipping out the door.

“Thank you General Mustang,” Winry said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. She let the case she was carrying over her shoulder hit the floor and she pushed up her sleeves.

Ed tried to put himself in reverse and was doing a slow 180 degree turn to go _away_ from Winry now, but as it was, if he was lucky he just might beat a turtle in a foot race.

“The first order of business,” Winry said with manic glee, “is to get you into bed.”

She walked right up to him, turned him back toward her, butted her shoulder into his stomach and hefted him up over her shoulder. She then walked down the hall with him and turned into the bedroom.

Playing dead didn't help Ed one little bit.

**

“There are people here I don't know,” Ed murmured, standing between the General and Breda at the last pew in the enormous church.

“They're so far away, how can you tell?” Roy said, squinting his eyes toward the little knot of people up near the front of the church.

“I can just tell,” Ed said, glancing over at Breda and wrinkling his nose. “Fuck sakes, Heymans. Al's getting married, at least you could have taken that relic of the last century to the cleaners.”

Breda looked dispassionate, as he was often wont to do and shrugged.

“Hey, it's clean, I only wore it once last year and it's been in the back of my closet ever since,” he said and nodded sagely in the manner that suggested he knew when he suit was clean.

“I'm glad I've never seen you with a woman who wasn't made of ink on paper, it's just as well you stay out of the gene pool,” Ed snorted. “Havoc is here getting the same thing done to him, you better hope Sarah doesn't get a good look at you, she'll toss you ass out those big holy doors, then where's your free beer? Nowhere, that's what I say,” the Ed stuck his nose in the air and looked side long at Roy. The General was wearing an ear to ear grin.

“Havoc said I could wear anything I wanted to his wedding, ain't my fault Al had to go and decide they needed to do it at the same time,” Breda looked at Roy to, in the 'why can't you control him?' sort of way. Roy refused to meet his eyes.

“Maybe those are Sarah's relatives,” Roy pondered. “Let's go introduce ourselves.”

“Why?” Ed asked. “Something special about them?”

“Yeah,” Breda chimed in, “they do tricks or something?”

Then Ed and Breda both grinned and elbowed each other. The General sighed.

They were all briefly saved by the arrival of Falman and Abigail, both in somber grey fabric and all laced and straight lines.

“We don't know those people up there,” Ed said to Falman, “go find out who they are.”

“Is this some sort of routine inquiry? Is there no security on the premises?” Falman asked.  
“Ed, don't get Falman all stiff, it's his day off, he's here to enjoy the wedding, like everyone else,” the General said.

“You mean you're suppose to _enjoy_ these things?” Breda asked with fake astonishment, “So all these years I've been doing this wrong?”

“That is the most unique definition of enjoy I've ever heard,” Ed muttered.

Then he and Breda elbowed each other again.

Fuery arrived a short time later and almost bought an elevator pass before the General intervened. Then as a sort of wary point guard, the General took Ed by the arm and led him down the isle toward the group at the other end.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Breda called after them, “I didn't know this was a three-for-one, you guys are starting kinda early,” he chortled. “You're supposed to wait for the organ music and the little kid to throw girly flower pedals at your feet.”

Ed wrested his arm away from Roy and charged back down the isle. Breda yelped and took off through the foyer and off to the right, disappearing out of sight. The sounds of Ed's dress show heels on the marble entry way rang through the church like thunder and everyone left standing there steadfastly avoided looking at the people in the front of the church.

After a few moments the General heaved a large sigh and went to make sure Ed wasn't committing murder on holy ground.

**

The elections were tomorrow. No one could decide where they should listen for the results. The usual bar didn't seem fitting for the General to hear the news he was going to be sworn in as the nations new Prime Minister. The General lived to far out in the boonies for his house to be wrecked with the drunken revelry to follow the announcement. Havoc lived in the dorm, so did Breda; so did Fuery and Falman for that matter. Hawkeye lived in East City, which was a couple of days away by train, so her place was right out.

Ed just listened to them plot and scheme and plan and wonder if he was listening to what the rest of his life would be like.

He would be the...the what? Husband? Wife? Lover? Consort? Concubine of the Prime Minister?

The Embarrassment most likely.

The General was looking at him, he summoned a smile.

“Any suggestions?” Roy asked.

Before Ed could speak, Havoc broke in.

“Hey, we can rent out the restaurant where Sarah works,” he said, and there was a approving mumur from the assembled crew of friends and campaign workers.

Roy kept his eyes on Ed.

“Sounds good to me,” Ed nodded.

The General came to him, took him by the elbow.

“Excuse us a moment,” Roy said, smooth as silk and neatly steered Ed off into another room, pausing to pull the door shut behind him. Ed took a few more steps into the room, turning to face Roy who now stood with his back to the door.

“Reservations?” Roy said, tilting his head slightly and looking off to the side. “I don't suppose I would blame you, even though it seems late at this point. But that's on my head, too. It's not like I gave you much of a choice.”

“Well you know how it is,” Ed shrugged, tucked his hands into his back pockets and tilted his head to the side, “now that it will be said and done I think of all the things I should have said in the first place. I think about all the implications, all the ways this can come back on you, on me, on Al. It's a big step, maybe I didn't understand exactly how huge a climb it was going to be, maybe I didn't realize what exactly I was going to give up.”

Roy let his head tilt back against the door and looked at the cracked plaster over his head. It ran in an interesting zigzagged line toward the light fixture in the middle of the ceiling.

“Look, I can make it work, I'm good at making things work,” Ed said. “I don't want you to think I'm backing out now after coming this far, it's not like that. This is me and you, in this together, forever. I don't do anything by halves.”

“I know that,” the General said, still studying the ceiling. “You put a lot of faith in me, I don't want to disappoint you. I'm not sure where I got caught up in this. I also know, it took a lot for me to earn the faith you put in me. That was sort of a fuel I guess, not an excuse. I know this is not what you would have asked of me, but I'm good at thinking for other people as I've found out over all this time you've been with me. I still haven't learned my lesson, have I?”

“I don't think you ever will,” Ed gave another shrug, an easier one, he smiled. “Whenever I start to think about how hard it is to be with you sometimes, I think about how much harder it was to be without you other times. I never want to go back to that. So, when I decided you were it for me, I knew there were going to be things I'd just have to swallow. Because you are a hard man General, but you're not hard to love.”

The General pushed off the door and within two strides had the Professor in his arms.

“I can't do this on my own, no matter what anyone might think. If you couldn't... if it was to much, I'd give it all up,” the General whispered right by his ear.

“You'd give up saving the world?” the Professor asked, his voice a bit breathless, his hands roaming up the General's arms toward his shoulders.  
“Gluttony didn't eat you,” the General said with a sudden, wicked grin. “Screw the rest of the world, I saved mine,” and he kissed him. Wet, hard, deep. His arms tightened around the small of the Professor's back, arched him hard until their hips were all but melded together.

The Professor's fingers massaged lazy circle into the General's shoulders.

“Why the fuck do you know just what to say?” Ed whispered, tilting his face up as he did so, his eyes already sliding half shut as he watched Roy lower his face toward his.

The General didn't answers, instead his mouth covered Ed's once again and his hips began to grind in a slow circle. Ed pulled his head back, licked his lips.

“Tell me what we've got; we found it didn't we? Remember?” he asked.

“This is as real as it gets, Ed,” the General said, low and husky, his hand slid down then; past Ed's waist and rested on the crest of his butt. When he ducked his head to kiss this time, he extended his tongue and Ed opened his mouth, already groaning in anticipation.

The click of the door handle and the creak of the springs didn't stop Roy. He latched over Ed's mouth like glue to paper and Ed raised his eyebrows and let his tongue be bullied by the invader. Ed did however turn his eyes sidelong to see who was standing in the doorway, watching them.

“General,” Fuery said faintly, sounding like he might pass out. Roy jerked his face away then, turned to look at the man.

“Be right there,” he said, pasting on his pleasant smile. Fuery was an adult now by any stretch of the means, but Roy still kid-gloved him as he always had. Roy squeezed Ed's ass anyways.

“We'll pick this up when we get home tonight,” he voice spoke with much promise and Ed gave him a dry hump to tide him over before releasing him back to destiny.

 

**

 

The General returned to the group with a disheveled Ed and a scowling Breda following along behind him. Ed and Breda kept snapping looks at each other, then at the back of the General's head and when they came to a stop, Ed and Breda looked for all the world like naughty school boys.

“I would think,” the General grumbled, “that you would want to conduct yourselves with a bit more decorum. After all this day is very important to your brother,” and he eyed Ed who ducked his head, “and your best friend,” he finished off, turning to level his gaze on Breda. Breda snorted and put his hands in his pockets.

As if summoned by his very name, Alphonse appeared out of a side door toward the back of the church. He looked around and broke into a huge grin and hurried toward the group.

“Al,” Ed cried behind Roy, then pushed around him to meet his brother. The two grabbed hands and for a brief moment, Roy thought they might dance in a circle; but they refrained and stood grinning at each other.

“When I heard someone in the foyer was strangling someone else in the foyer I knew you were here,” Al gushed.

“Of course we're here,” Ed returned excitably, “we're even early. Roy was lousy at the directions, but somehow I managed to get us here despite him.”

Al released Ed's hands and then grabbed his brother and hugged him tight, rocking him side to side. Ed could barely be seen over Alphonse's shoulder and his words were muffled against his brother's collar bone.

“I'm just so glad you're here,” Al said, his voice sounding a bit high and strained and Roy decided to leap in and try to keep Al from dissolving into a girl by crying or something equally unmanly.

“I'm just so glad you're happy,” Ed said, in the same timbre as Al and Roy concluded that perhaps, unbeknownst to them all, the Elrics were really sisters.

“How can they be so gay for each other and yet not be?” Breda said with a shake of the head.

“They're brothers!” Fuery hissed in scarlet outraged.

“Doesn't make them any less gay yet not for each other,” Breda snorted.

“I believe the man has a point,” Roy sighed, watching the two of them attempt to rock each other, but their rhythm was all off. They looked like high school sophomores at their first dance together.

“It..it's not gay,” Fuery sputtered, “It's just brotherly love, there's nothing wrong with it,” he flailed his arms a bit.

“Well at least Al isn't grabbing Ed's butt like the General always does,” Breda nodded.

“I like grabbing Ed's butt,” Roy said, clasping his hands behind his back, “Ed has an extraordinary backside. Tight, sort of bubble shaped, and the sounds he makes...”

“Ok I was sort of on your team there for a bit,” Breda said, turning away, “but now I'm gonna go over here and pick Fuery up off the carpet. Enjoy your perversions alone, sir.”

The General nodded, noticing that somehow Falman had already made it way down to the front of the church with his date in tow. Amazing how fast and silently the man could move, really, he was wasting himself at a desk job.

The General stepped around Breda who was slapping Fuery's cheeks and shaking him by the collar and advanced on the two brothers, still locked in a hug. The General tapped Al's shoulder.

“Mind if I cut in?” he asked.

Al pried Ed off and transferred him over to the General, where Ed clung to him like a sloth and Al rubbed his brother's back.

“He's always so emotional,” Al said, looking up at the General. Roy winced when Ed's automail fingers dug into his back.

“Well,” the General managed to wheeze out as Edward proceeded to try and decompress his lungs, “you know he's always had a weak spot for you. He's not the type to be emotional about just anything. I think we can cut him a little slack this time,” and the General forced a grin and patted Ed's shoulder praying his spine wouldn't snap before Ed released him.

“I guess so,” Al said, smiling. His name was called and he turned away then, went down the isle toward the other people in the church.

“For that you get to live,” Ed growled against Roy's chest and pried his knuckles from between one of Roy's vertebrae.

**

One by one they filtered out, and he took the General's hand as they were the last to leave. There were some raised hands in the parking lot, waves that were uncertain, but Ed returned them all and stood by as Roy opened the car door for him.

It has been a reasonable night. The food and drinks, the ballons and hats, the tally and results.

You think you know someone, and then you have to say something to them. Something that will be both profound and comforting, something to if not make it all better, at least to make it seem like it might turn out ok in the end.

“It was really close,” Ed said, studying Roy's profile as he pulled the car out of the parking lot onto the main road. “It really seemed like their might have been a run off.”

Roy spared him a glance and a smile. Ed tried to read more, but the General turned his head again, eyes forward.

“It was pretty close,” Roy said with a nod, but didn't say anything further.

What made the comforting part harder, at least for Ed, was the fact he was _glad_ the new Prime Minister was _not_ Roy. In fact, he had restrained himself from letting out a whoop of relief when the final numbers were in and the announcement sang out tinny and loud on the radio that had center stage at their little gathering.

“Look, you don't have to move offices! You're still a General!” Ed then flashed his infamous grin, the grin he used to reassure his little brother, to try and fool his superior officer. His grin that was suppose to fix things, _(but in reality, only covered them up)_.

The General said nothing.

There were several moments of awkward silence. The Professor studied his hands in his lap and alternately glanced up at the road. There was little to see except the car lights flashing by them going to opposite direction.

“You know, I'm really not very good at this,” Ed finally said. “I want to make it all better, but I don't know how. I don't know how to boister people with only words and my own confidence. I'm just me, and I believe in you, I still think you did save the world,” he glanced at Roy then. “Maybe that isn't enough, in light of tonight. I know how hard you worked for this, and I know how bad it is to lose. Even if our experiences aren't the same, I still know that pain, and I'm sorry. I love you and I want to fix it, but I'm not sure how.”

The General's hand fell over his, where it rested on the car seat between them. He squeezed Ed's hand and cleared his throat. He didn't really say anything, but he didn't let go of Ed's hand, either.

When they got to the house the General pulled his coat off and hung it in the closet, he then turned into the living room, hitting the light switch and heading over to the bar. Ed stood under the living room arch, watching him, his own coat hanging over his arms.

The General poured himself a scotch, and even know he knew Ed never partook of his favorite drink, the held up a second glass and tilted his head as if in question.

“Yes,” Ed said, walking into the living room, dumping his coat on the couch as he went.

He was glad that Roy was only his. He was entirely to glad the man's dreams, hopes and aspirations came tumbling down at his feet this night. He was, without doubt the most despicable and two-faced lover any General could ever have, and he didn't deserve someone like Roy.

The General poured him a healthy dose, pressed the glass into his metal hand, then turned to lean his back against the bar and practically killed his own glass in one shot. Ed sniffed at his, held his breath and took a drink. He tried hard not to wince and gag, but managed to anyways and he thought he caught the ghost of a half smile on the General's profile.

Roy looked into the glass, tilting it toward him, then took a deep breath and let it go slowly.

“Tonight fucking sucked,” the General said.

And here he was, in all his turmoil, trying to comfort _Ed_. Because frankly, the General never said anything sucked _(he often said fucking, however)_.

“No, I fucking suck,” Ed burst out. “I fucking suck like starved babies at a boob convention. I suck so much that I could be a threat to small children or animals nearby that might get caught in the vacuum. I should never be allowed to have anyone good around me because I manage to create this black hole of suckiness and everyone just swooshes in and gets the suck I suck all over them and that makes things just suck even more...”

The General was looking at him oddly.

“I'm sorry that my sucky need to have you all to myself somehow caused this to happen,” Ed continued. “I didn't... I didn't want you to be Prime Minister, so... yeah, so this is what happened,” then Ed killed the rest of his scotch in penance because he knew it was going to kill him. He staggered toward the couch gagging and dropped onto it.

And then...the General laughed. He put his hands over his eyes and then threw his head back and laughed. He shook his head, pointed at Ed, poured himself another scotch, but then couldn't drink it right away because he has to laugh some more.

Ed grumbled but didn't really object. He just waited for Roy to get over this bout of hysteria, then condemn him good and proper and make him sleep in the spare bedroom.

Roy took another drink of his scotch, turned and sat the glass on the bar, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then shook his head one more time.

“You are just priceless,” the General said, looking over at the man looking like a sorry heap on the couch. “Absolutely priceless.”

Not sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing, Ed held his peace.

The General walked over and offered his hand. The Professor reached up slowly to take it and didn't resist when the General pulled him to his feet. Roy looped his arm over Ed's shoulder and turned him toward the doorway.

“Do you think I didn't know that, Ed?” the General kissed his temple and gave him the nudge to start walking. “Not the part where you somehow made me lose the election. I'm really impressed that you got out there and campaigned for my opposition so well, or that you somehow managed to rig the vote boxes, very clever. They always say keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

“You don't have to mock me,” Ed growled as he was guided down the hall and turned into the bedroom.

“They left out the part where it says keep your lovers under you,” the General nipped at his ear and Ed pushed away a little.

“I don't get this, why aren't you mad at me?” Ed questioned, then did a little hop-step to avoid stepping on R.D. who came skidding into the bedroom behind them.

“Edward when has my being mad at you ever accomplished anything?” Roy said, navigating the sudden tangle of lover and dog and shrugging his suit jacket off his shoulders. He opened his closet, stepped half into it and rummaged for a hanger.

Ed watched his back, watched as he started working out of his vest, then untying his tie. He didn't say anything. Roy was never one for a strict economy of words. Sure, he didn't feel the need to fill up a space with his voice; but even for him, this was quiet.

Of course he was quiet. He was upset, he had to be, how couldn't he be? Ed reached up to rub the back of his neck. Since his younger brother had found someone else to occupy his ever waking thought he rarely took the time to beam good advice directly into Ed's brain nowadays. Ed was left to flop around on his own, very much a fish out of water in the comforting words department.

He groped for something to say to the man he loved; something that wasn't a thinly disguised attempt to get Roy to tell him what to say to make Roy feel better. Dammit, how old did he have to be before he could do these things on his own? R.D. was sitting by the closet as Roy continued to undress, watching Ed, tilting his head back and forth and Ed kept expecting the little terrier to pipe up and give Ed the prode in the right direction. He half turned away in self disgust; so he was so inadequate as a human being he had to seek a dog’s advice? Ridiculous, but he gave R.D. another glance anyways.

The General was in his skivvies now, and they stepped back out of the closet and closed the door. He gave Ed a look as he headed for the bathroom.

“Aren't you going to get ready for bed?” the General asked, “It's getting pretty late.”

“Yeah,” Ed nodded absently, but he sat on the end of the bed after Roy disappeared from view.

So he could just say nothing. After all, Roy wasn't acting upset; but that was just like Roy, to try to spare Ed everything. It was a bad habit he'd picked up when Ed was still just a kid and had yet to shake it. It aggravated Ed as much as it drew him to the man. He then wondered if he'd ever be old enough for Roy to shake it, and part of him kind of hoped Roy never did. But by saying nothing, well, what kind of support was that? His very own inner Ed rapped on the inside of his skull and nastily informed him that by wishing a loss on the General he wasn't supportive _at all_ , not at any time during the entire ordeal.

His very own inner Ed informed him what a selfish bastard he really was. And his inner Al wasn't around to scold his inner Ed.

“I'm not a coward,” he growled to himself, “and I am supportive.” He pushed himself up off the bed and headed for the bathroom, he grabbed the doorjamb on either side and leaned in; he started to say something but the General, who was leaning on the vanity, jerked his head up and looked at him. He didn't look ok.

And he suddenly knew he didn't need words. All he needed to do was to release the doorjamb, walk the few feet separating himself from Roy and wrap his arms around him; which was precisely what he did.

Roy didn't feel a need for words either. He turned his face as Ed came against his chest and pressed his forehead to Ed's temple and inhaled deeply.

Once upon a time, what seemed like forever ago now, Ed had told Roy a fairy tale of a strange world and the shadow of people who were not who he thought they were. A tale of a place where he'd spent six years in a waking dream, wanting nothing more than to come home to all he knew. And as he spun this tale of hope and despair, Roy had held him and rocked him. He remembered it, because even though he never said it, just the simple act of holding someone close and swaying back and forth had been a lifeline to him. It was the thing that reached through the darkness of those memories and gave him the courage to get them out into the open, so he didn't have to suffer them alone.

He remembered the general's arms around him, rocking him.

So he started to sway, lightly, to and fro and the general was stiff at first, but he soon caught the motion and they stood like that, on the tile floor of the bathroom, holding and rocking. And it was there, as he was the one holding out the lifeline that he found his voice to speak, and he hoped his words would help.

“I'm so sorry,” he whispered below the general's ear. “You deserved that position; they have no idea what they’ve lost. But I do. I know what they've denied themselves, and I thank ...well I'm not sure who to thank, but I do, everyday. I thank whatever that I as able to get back and be with you and be beside you. But more importantly, because you could be beside me. Because this is where I feel safe; you are the man who saved my world.”

The general lifted his hands and cupped Ed's cheeks and pressed his forehead to Ed's and met Ed's eyes with his miss-matched ones.

“Thank you,” Roy whispered. “I want that to be all that matters to me.”

**

Now you don't see him...now you do.

The prince was there, suddenly, inexplicably; right there at Ed's side. Ed jumped a little and this made Roy look to see what was wrong. Then Roy was scowling and Ed wasn't sure what to feel. He hadn't seen the prince in a while.

“General Mustang,” the prince purred and gave a deep flourishing bow, “Professor Elric,” the prince continued, and straightened up only to give another deep flourishing bow.

“Your highness,” the general returned, never to be outdone. He inclined his head and Ed looked back and forth between them. Both the prince and the general were looking at him now.

“Well, free food and booze are involved, I'm not surprised you showed up,” Ed snorted and like that the tension eased and the three of them stood there watching Alphonse speak to Riza's relatives near the front of the church.

“I was invited,” the prince said, speaking lowly and leaning toward Ed's ear when he noticed the general's arm fall heavily across Ed's shoulder and Ed winced but said nothing.

The prince gave the general's arm a look, let his gaze travel the length of it to the general's profile and the general turned to look at him behind Ed's head and although he said nothing, his eyes informed the prince to back the fuck; or not as the situation presented itself. In that case, the general's eyes told the prince, he would be happy to help the prince contributed to the atmosphere of Al and Riza's _(and Havoc and Sarah's, but damn that was a long sentence)_ wedding by providing additional lighting. In the way a torch provided additional ambient lighting. Only it wouldn't be a torch, it would be the prince, or some such because Roy's eyes lost their train of thought by being distracted from the prince to Ed who was just now figuring out there was a non-verbal threat going on behind his back.

“Stop it,” Ed growled, “this is Al's wedding for fuck sake.”

“So it's alright for you to throttle Breda in the vestibule, but it's not alright for me to promise the prince a fiery death if he so much as breaths on you in the foyer?” the general grumbled, wrinkling his nose and turning away from the prince.

“Breda called me and _you_ ga...,” but Ed stopped himself, because the prince was standing right there. “I'll tell you later when the royal snop isn't around.”

A servant appeared at Ling's side and whispered in his ear so softly neither the general or Ed could make out what was being said no matter how hard they listened or try to edge closer discreetly to overhear.

The servant went away and Roy and Ed waiting for the prince to tell them what that was all about, but the prince merely clasped his hands behind his back and offered his usual telling smile that told nothing at all. The general and the professor turned away to huddle up and try to figure out just what the prince might be up to, and when neither could decide they turned back to him.

“That's some get up,” Ed remarked casually over the prince's silk finery, “you look like a girl.”

“In my country we wearing garments suited to the occasion. A marriage is a bonding, a union between a man and a woman. Here, embroidered on my clothing are many koi, a symbol of plenty and fertility,” the prince solemnly pointed out.

“You are just fucked with analogies, you know that?” Ed crossed his arms. “I bet I could say anything and you'd find some way of comparing it to some obscure meaning in your country.”

“I can't help it you lack tradition,” the prince said and brushed down his tunic front.

“We have plenty of tradition,” Ed said airily. “Were I come from we have festivals for everything. Corn, wheat, cows,” Ed ticked off his fingers, “peaches...um.. apples...”

“Most of your traditions are food based, I see,” the prince said rubbing his chin.

“This wedding ceremony is traditional,” the general offered. It seemed he'd manage to overcome his inability to speak to the prince without growling.

“Right, this is traditional, everyone gets married this way, everyone here that is, not in your country,” and Ed was back to being smug, he folded his arms and grinned at the general.

The general was looking at him with a small smile pulling the corner of his mouth. Ed puffed his chest out a bit, he liked being looked at his way.

Then the church doors behind them opened and in streamed Xingian men, all dressed in bright silks, four sets of them, each bearing a tub carried on bars that rested on their shoulders. They paraded past the prince, the general and the professor standing there in the foyers. Falman, Breda and Fuery regarded them from the bench they had appropriated about half way down the church isle. Alphonse stared at them from the front of the church, then made placating gestures at his future in-relatives. The other people, who must be attached to either Havoc or Sarah also watched.

“We've never found out just who they are, have we?” Ed said out of the side of his mouth to Roy.

The tubs were deposited next to the altar and Alphonse and the other people up front crowded forward to see. Falman, Breda and Fuery all stood up and leaned over the pew in front of them, but they were to far away to get a good look. Roy and Ed turned to look at the prince.

“It's a wedding gift,” the prince said with an easy shrug of his shoulders. “I'm afraid I will be journeying for home by this time tomorrow, and I wasn't sure where else to present it.”

“You're going back to Xing?” Ed asked, and felt funny that this long awaited news didn't bring him the euphoria he once thought it would.

“A new ambassador will be taking my place,” the prince said, eyes closed, smile similarly closed. “I would have told you sooner, but you've been rather inaccessible of late.”

Roy suddenly slapped Ed on the shoulder.

“Admitting my curiosity is piqued is an understatement,” the general said. “I have to see what's in the tubs.” He walked away down the isle, leaving Ed there with the prince and a chance to speak alone. The man never ran dry of good deeds.

“Yeah about that,” as the general got out of hearing range, “you know why. I mean things like that need time to simmer down, it's not like I was going to avoid you _forever_ ,” then Ed heaved a sigh. “But I guess since you're running home now that Roy can be no more use to you I just won't get the chance.”

“To continue avoiding me?” Ling questioned, smile still in place.

“Right, you've made it to easy, being in another country and all,” Ed grinned back. “Well you can always have your servants write me letters.”

The two young men stood side by side and regarded each other for long moments.

“Um, this might sound weird, but...thanks. In a lot of ways what you did made me see some shit I was taking for granted and it was also...flattering? So, yeah, thanks and all. You started out as a major pain in my ass and managed to turn into a half way respectable friends sort of thing. Don't make anything of that, I'm just saying,” Ed finished off.

“Thank you for being my cultural liaison and a sober reminder that anything in life is worth working hard to achieve, even if the end result is not what you would have wanted,” Ling turned to look toward the front of the church where everyone was gathered around the tubs.

“I hope your brother likes fish,” the prince said. The servants all filed back up the main isle, slid past Ling and Ed silently and went out the door.

“He likes fried fish ok I guess,” Ed said with a shrug, “you brought him fish? He's got like a cat, he's likely to have a billion if he and Riza get a house or something.”

At the head of the church, Roy had his arm over Al's shoulder and they were both peering down into one of the tubs. Al was pointing something out.

“Things are well with you then? You and your General?” the prince asked softly.

“It could have been bad, and it was, but then it wasn't,” Ed turned to look into the prince's face. “I love him,” he said simply.

They stood and regarded the congregation around the tubs another moment.

“Well then I've just supplied him with very high dollar cat food,” the prince said and turned toward the door.

“Hey wait, where are you going?” Ed said and almost reached out, but stopped himself.

“All my questions have been answered,” the prince said with his usual touch of enigma, bowed to the Professor and slipped out the door.

**

Losing and winning were all a part of life. Sometimes you can just grit your teeth and bear it, sometimes you need that shoulder to lean on, and sometimes you need to other half of your soul telling you that you are the only thing that matters in his world.

Roy walked Ed backwards out of the bathroom, stopped as they neared the bed to kiss him. He took his time, even though these lips were well known to him. He traced them with his own, tugged gently at the bottom lip with his teeth, then opened his mouth over Ed's and stroked them with his tongue before seeking entrance.

Ed answered as best he could, stepping into Roy as he was kissed, pressing his shirt covered chest to Roy's bare chest and running his hands up Roy's sides. Roy held his face captive, his large palms warm against Ed's cheeks, his fingers rubbing absent circles just below Ed's ears.

To Ed, it was almost like floating. Being weightless and airborne, no gravity, no earthly cares to hold you on to the ground. There was only Roy and his warmth to suspend him and let him just drift free of everything that came before this kiss.

At parting it took a moment for them both to realize they were still grounded and Roy pressed his advantage again, walking Ed backwards until his knees hit the bed and he sat, then Roy just continued to lean into him, forcing him onto his back. Roy planted his hands to either side of Ed's head and held himself up, arms locked straight and just looked down at him. His eyes traveled from Ed's hair line, down his nose, over his throat, down the front of his shirt and stopped about mid-chest and moved back up.

“You know what I look like,” Ed said, cheeks red. He wet his lips and averted his eyes, but seemed to force them back to Roy's face. “I know what you look like. We've been lovers for years. So why is it you still look at me like this?”

“I'm fairly certain one day, you'll understand,” Roy said, pushing back and standing himself up before leaning over to start on the buttons of Ed's vest.

Ed didn't move to help, but Roy managed to get his vest unbuttoned and pushed open, next he unbuttoned Ed's shirt, pulled it out of his pants and spread it open. He then undid the buckle of Ed's belt and his trouser button and all the buttons down the fly. Ed kept waiting for him to start removing everything he'd so carefully undone. But he didn't; instead he lowered his head and extended his tongue and dragged it over Ed's bare nipple. Ed jerked as if he'd touched a live wire.

“Wa...wait,” Ed said, already breathless and Roy let himself feel a bit smug. “Wait a fucking minute, this isn't about me, this is about _you_. I'm the one who's suppose to be supportive now, I'm the one who's suppose to be making you feel better. I love you, I don't want you to be upset. You're doing all of this to make me feel better, what about you?”

“What about me?” Roy answered lowly. “God Ed, don't you know by now? It's you, just you that makes me feel better. The fact you are with me, want me, that you let me do this. That is my solace, you're like a damn gift. Yes, I'm upset. I lost in front of the entire nation. All that effort, all that work and for what? You think it was wasted? It wasn't. It's right here, when will you ever believe me?” And to stall the inevitable denial Roy leaned up and covered his mouth again, kissed him like he wanted to melt into him and when he let Ed breath again, Ed didn't try to protest, he tried only to get oxygen.

It didn't last long.

“I'm on a learning curve here,” Ed gasped out, but Roy decided kissing his way down Ed's sternum was more interesting than listening to him babble. “I'm trying to be comforting you know, and I was thinking that being comforting with sex would seem kind of shallow, like I didn't know what to say or anything and while it's true that I don't know what to say, I think I _ought_ to know what to say. I'm just not a really sensitive person, I don't care what Al thinks and I know that sometimes I just tend to ride rough shod right over everyone’s feelings, and while I think it's a bit girly to be otherwise I do realize maybe I'm a little to blaise about it. I mean come on, it's not like I've had the best of social upbringings. I had really terrible influences, y'know, the gate, homunculi, _you_ , and all of that through my formative years. I think, on the whole, after everything I went thought it's just a wonder I'm not in some padded room somewhere drooling into my oatmeaaaaalllllll....fuck what are you doing?” Ed struggled to push up on his elbows, but the shirt he still had across his shoulders pulled tight and hampered him.

Roy raised his head a bit and gave Ed a lazy smirk.

“Edward, why are you asking redundant questions at a time like this?” then he went back to his previous task of giving Ed's cock a tongue bath. Ed's cock seemed very excited by this and had stiffened up helpfully and seemingly was raising itself toward Roy's mouth.

Ed straightened his legs, pointed his toes, started to twist and arch. Roy wrapped his hand around the base of Ed's cock and gave him reverse friction. He pulled up with his fingers as he descended with his mouth and vice versa. Ed crossed his eyes and started to struggle upright, but Roy bunched his free hand in Ed's shirt and it pulled and stretched and held him prisoner pretty effectively.

“DAMMIT, Roy, dammit,” Ed tried to roll back and forth, but the white cloth kept him immobile. He was helpless to his lover's hands, mouth and whims and it was oddly exciting. Sure, they'd done it before, with butt-ugly ties, but this more spontaneous restraint was... exhilarating.

Roy began to work on Ed's pants. He was between Ed's legs, so he only got them down to just under Ed's butt cheeks. This felt weird and a little uncomfortable as they were rolled up just under his ass, but no amount of squirming got him any relief and Roy refused to help.

One hand still tangled in Ed's shirt, Roy trailed the over Ed's lower stomach and brushed through curls and handled Ed's cock in a very familiar way. Ed gasped and flopped back on the bed, but he couldn't even arch his hips up right because of his fucking clothing still on him, being used in an most expert bondage fashion by his sadist lover.

“I suppose, if you really want to make me feel better, you could always beg,” Roy crooned, leaned over him again and tongued his navel.

“Like hell, wait for it to freeze over,” Ed snarled and jerked, but couldn't get any leeway. “Y'know I wanted to do the sensitive thing and talk about your feelings. See? I listen to Al, it just takes time to sit in there before I can actually utilize it as knowledge. But no, you seem to prefer me trapped on the bed under you.”

That startled Roy into abandoning his slow tongue trek back to Ed's cock and look up at him.

“Wait, are you asking me if I'd rather talk about my feelings or have you half naked and erect under me? Is this a trick question?” Roy boggled. “For the love of God, Ed, just get used to the fact that you're extraordinarily attractive and unbelievably sexy to me and let me rub my self all over you before sticking myself inside you.”

Ed looked at him, poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue and shrugged.

“Well ok, if you're going to put it that way,” Ed said.

“Let me put it a better way,” Roy purred. “I want you so hard you're dripping, I want to tease you until you think you will die, but I'll hold you there, on the edge of death and I think I might like to use my tongue on you. You like that, you turn almost purple when I do that, and even thought you think it's disgusting, you love it. Then, when I have you there, knowing you would beg me,” and he shrugged off Ed's sudden snort, “I would undo my pants, which are at the moment admittedly tight. I would let the head of my cock, probably also dripping by this point, brush lightly up and down over your anus as I held your cheeks apart. I'd watch you pull at the sheets, and try to offer yourself up. Pull that gorgeous body taunt, all for me. Fuck Ed, it makes me insane, and when I'd reached the point of no return, I would press my cock slowly into your tight, hot ass and I'd watch your entire body do a rolling spasm and relaxing. Then I'd just fuck you through the mattress and listen to you howl my name. My masterpiece and symphony.” He licked his lips and watched his lovers face. Ed was decidedly rosy.

“So..so what are you waiting for?” Ed prompted.

Roy moved his free hand, splaying his fingers and watching them as he dragged them over Ed's cock, down to his balls and he pressed his palm there, rubbed in a slow circle.

“Oh fuck, you mean it about the begging,” Ed whined.

“I do,” Roy returned with a husky laugh. “My name on your lips, followed by many expletives and then a resentful shout about fucking you or letting you come, oh yes, Edward, I mean every word.”

Ed struggled then, really struggled. A seam ripped audibly, but his clothing held him and then Roy pressed his body all along Ed's, using his weight to keep the younger man pinned. Ed could feel the rough cloth of Roy's trousers between his legs, over his cock, he could also feel the hardness of Roy's own erection there, on the inside of his thigh. He thrashed and gnashed his teeth at the man above him.

“You're not being very co-operative,” Roy murmured to him, then he rolled slightly to the side, but still keeping Ed effectively pinned and slid his hand down Ed's stomach, back over his cock, below his balls and between his butt cheeks. He pressed there, rubbed in a slow circle and Ed half shrieked and tried to head butt him, but he pulled his head away just in time to avoid it.

Ed then snapped his jaw shut, obviously he was feeling rebellious enough to try and deny Roy his shouts, Roy kept rubbing and pressing, he brought his knee up to nudge at Ed's balls, watched Ed's cock bounce against Ed's own lower stomach; he watched Ed's cheeks, neck and chest get red. Ed screwed his eyes shut now and he strained, god he pulled his beautiful body to quivering and he tried to free one of his arms. Roy was just mesmerized. How could another human be this magnificent? How was it even possible? He leaned down, lapped at Ed's shoulder, tasting him, taking deep breaths to draw in his scent and revelled in the feel of Ed's muscles, quivering all along his body.

Oh yes, he could die happy like this.

He moved his hand back to Ed's cock, gripped it and squeezed. That took some of the fight out of Ed, who turned his attentions to trying to buck in Roy's grip. He opened his eyes then, glared hard enough to push Roy out of the room if glares could be solid and gave a ragged gasp. The first real sound he'd uttered.

“My name?” Roy prompted and gave Ed a stroke. Ed half wailed, tried to bite it off and suddenly went slack, flopping his head back.

“FUCK YOU ROY!” He shrieked. “OK FINE... Let me out of my fucking clothes and then get the hell ON ME, THERE ARE YOU HAPPY?!” He added for emphasis.

“Despite the spirit crushing loss of an electoral seat I've been working on for years? Yes, very happy to be here, with you and be like this, with you. I'm not letting you go, but I will fuck you cross-eyed, I promise,” then he had the audacity to grin.

“I don't want to beg,” Ed begged, “why do you want to humiliate me like that?”

“What's humiliating about it?” Roy asked and wondered how he was going to reach the lube and keep Ed immobile enough so he didn't escape, “it's just you and me. We're lovers and we share everything, remember?”

Roy took a chance, released Ed for a moment to lunge at the bedside table. Luck was with him, he managed to snatch the lube and flatten Ed under him before Ed could roll away. There was some scuffling and growling, but Roy got his knee between Ed's legs again and he was already half lying on Ed's trailing shirt. In fact, now the shirt was drawn tighter, because when Ed tried to roll away, he exposed more of it from under him. Roy was very opportunistic.

Roy mouthed the lube open, tucked it under his chin to squeeze some into his hand. Ed's eyes got big and he tried to grind his ass into the mattress, but Roy let the lube bottle drop on his chest. It rolled toward his stomach, leaving a bit of a trail and Ed would have complained, except Roy was shoving his hand back into Ed's trousers and Ed knew he had one destination in mind.

Ed was still tight, and warm. The lube made him slick. He clenched on Roy's fingers as they one by one invaded. He made awful, animalist guttural sounds as Roy unerringly found the place that drove him insane. He tossed his head and tried to spread his trapped legs. He beat his heels on the beside, the clawed at the sheets and pulled as much as he could.

“I...hate...you...you're...a bastard,” Ed gulped and sobbed, pounded his head on the mattress.

“Is that any way to treat me?” Roy cooed.

“You'll...get...yours...you...have...to.

..sleep...sometime,” Ed said, trying to make it sound dire, but only making it sound pitiful.

“Come on now Ed, no pain, no gain,” Roy teased, then dipped his head to lick at Ed's nipple.

Ed made several lovely and comical facial distortions, but then he opened his eyes wide, and looked Roy in the face. He was flushed from head to toe, he was glistening from sweat and his bangs where sticking to his cheeks.

“Roy, please, I need you,” he said softly and simply, and Roy Mustang was totally undone.

The role reversal was instantaneous. Roy helped Ed out of his clothes, helped Ed undress him, he let himself be pulled into Ed's arms, he let Ed grip his erection and guide him and he let Ed arch to take him inside in one slow, strong, deft thrust. And, when the time came, Edward called his name and he almost wept.

**

Roy and Ed were escorted to the first bench on the groom's side of the church. They settled side by side and Ed kept looking over his shoulder as more people filed in. The military uniforms were out in force and the church was being inundated by blue. He suddenly turned around and sat ramrod straight and stares straight forward. Roy looked sidelong at him curiously, but then felt a large presence at his back. It felt akin to the way a mouse must feel when it suddenly realized a cat was breathing down it's neck. The next moment a hand landed on his shoulder, _(and on Ed's)_ and threatened to tip he and Ed into one another.

“What a joyous occasion, I feel as thought he were one of my own,” a voice boomed behind them. Then the pew behind them gave an audible screech, creaking as if under some incredible weight.

“Alex,” Roy said smoothly, trying to ignore his broken shoulder, he was sure it wasn't broken no matter what his body was frantically trying to tell him. “It's so good of you to come, I know Alphonse will be thrilled.”

“For such two good people to find one another; it's as if the very heavens are laying a blessing upon us,” the large man sighed. He then leaned forward and squeezed Edward's similarly broken shoulder in a companionable way. “I know this means a lot to you as well,” Armstrong rumbled in Ed's ear, “the culmination of all the hard struggles you lads went through in your youth. Now a blessed union, and proof yet again that darkness never prevails.”

“It's great to see you Alex,” Ed managed to grate out. “It means a lot to me as well that you managed to be here.” Roy knew Ed wasn't one for niceties, if he said it, he meant it.

After that it was general chit chat, both with Armstrong and anyone else of their acquaintance that happened near. There was a 'who do you think those people are' guessing game, as well as a match to see who could crane their neck around the farthest before it snapped.

Ed felt a little dizzy at all the people, then he felt a warm gratitude as the pews kept filling up. His brother and the Colonel were good people; and people responded in kind. Somehow, some way, his brother or the Colonel had touched every one of these souls filling up the benches, either personally or by obligation, and Ed felt proud for his brother. And he felt happy; he'd never get tired of feeling happy.

A man in a black tuxedo appeared through a side door, climbed the steps and went to the massive organ centered behind the altar. The altar itself was drowned in flowers and once the man seated himself at the organ, the foliage swallowed him.

A sudden hush descended on the crowd as the pipes began to sound. Slow and simple the tune started out, growing in volume until it swelled the very rafters of the church. It was a vibrant tune and it lifted each person it touched, reminding them of why they were here.

Ed noticed that Breda had disappeared, and a whispered inquiry to Roy brought him the information that Breda was Havoc's best man, and as such, would be standing at his side at the start of the ceremony. At about that time a young boy appeared, dressed in choir robes and seemed to pick Ed out right away. He came over and leaned politely to whisper into Ed's ear.

“Sir, your brother would like to see you in the vestible,” he whispered and message given, he quickly hurried away.

Ed looked at Roy and Roy smiled and nodded. It was a bit embarrassing to Ed to get up and make his way all the way back to the rear of the church and the vestible off the foyer entrance.

Al met him with a hug. He was pulled inside, brushed down, straightened up and had a red rose tucked into his button hole.

“What is all this?” Ed asked, slightly baffled. “Al?”

“Best man, brother, who else do you think I'd get?” Al grinned. A man of Al's acquaintance named Pharr winked at Ed over Al's shoulder.

“What? I mean, just now? Why didn't you tell me about this?” Ed floundered. “What am I suppose to do?”

“I didn't tell you because of this precise reason, you panic, then you worry yourself to death needlessly over the simplest of things,” Al said matter of factly. Pharr came forward then, he showed Ed a lovely ring, diamond encrusted and beautifully etched. He then tucked it into Ed's tuxedo pocket and grinned.

“Now brother, all you have to do, other than stand beside me while I get married, is to pull that ring out of your pocket when the priest asks for it, ok? That's all you have to do,” Al smoothed Ed's lapels again.

“You should have warned me,” Ed said, wringing his hands. “It seems simple enough,” Ed patted his pocket frantically, laying his hand over the ring. “I guess it will be ok,” he patted the pocket again, checking for the ring again. “All I have to do is stand there?” he asked.

“Deep breaths brother,” Al reassured him.

“It will be fine,” Pharr grinned.

**

So there he was, standing slightly behind Al and to his left. He kept darting glances at Riza, who looked so very different. All in white, looking just as nervous as he felt and looking at his brother who was standing beside her with a look Ed had never seen on her face before.

There was another couple at the altar, and Breda kept giving him looks from his side. Sarah was grinning and Havoc looked pale and wobbly, Sarah kept grabbing his elbow as if to boister him up. She even winked at Ed when she caught him looking. He couldn't help his own half grin in return. She was a force to be reckoned with and Ed didn't know where to be happy or a little scared for Havoc.

He almost missed his cue, but managed to get the ring out, not fumble it and place it in the priest's hand when it was asked of him. He listened to the final verses being read, and unbidden, he turned his head and looked at Roy, who was sitting almost right behind him, in the first row.

When the priest pronounced the couple, Roy mouthed 'I do' to him, and Ed, caught in the moment had to be tugged away by his newly wed brother.

**

Ed tried to swim back through the exiting mass at the church. But instead, Pharr steered him toward a waiting car.

“Don't worry, you can catch up at the reception,” he told Ed, stuffing him in and jumping in himself. Ed turned to look out the rear window, hoping to see Roy in the vast sea of blue and black, but then the car cranked and lurched forward and Ed turned back around and sat down.

The drove for a while until they came to an old farmstead, and behind it, rising toward the sky was a large white tent. Chairs were lined up, tables where spread and a band was warming up on the portable stage. It reminded him of the party he and Roy had thrown Al for his birthday a while ago and he looked at the man beside him and wondered why he wasn't Roy, then the turned and looked out the rear window again, hoping to see their car.

They got out at the tent, he was immediately whisked to Al's side and was starting to feel a bit lost.

“Oh no, where's the General?” Al questioned, “We can't start without him, he has to make the toast. I don't anyone else, we'll wait,” and Ed almost kissed him for it. Ed became one of the scouts sent out to find Roy, but instead he was one of the ones summoned back after Roy had been procured. By this time, the tent was crowded and while he was near the front, he was at the fringes. He could barely see Roy through the crush, but he heard him as he made the toast.

“Friends, you know why you're here. Now that Alphonse and Riza are married, our world domination is assured, so let us raise our glasses...” Of course, there was a lot of laughter and Roy didn't make any motion to quelch it.

When Roy left the makeshirt podium Ed finally took the initiative to squeeze through he crowd. He saw Roy stop and look around, then notice him and head in his direction.

He thought he would burst, he thought he would suffocate. He wanted to be with Roy, he wanted to hear Roy speak to just him, he wanted to feel Roy's hand on his back. And then finally Roy was there in front of him, and Roy smiled at him and grabbed his hands.

“Do you want to say something?” Roy asked.

“I do, too,” Ed rushed out and Roy looked startled and then he looked warm and serene and he pulled Ed to his side and held him there with an arm over his shoulders.

“I actually meant did you want a turn making a toast for your brother and sister-in-law, but never mind, I think I'll be selfish a bit and save all your words just for me,” he said, leaning down to speak in Ed's ear.

Ed barely heard the rest of the people to speak, he kept leaning on Roy's side and watching his profile as Roy paid attention. He laughed when Roy did, smiled when Roy did, but for him in the midst of it all there was only Roy.

Roy moved them, found them a good table as the crowd at the microphone wound down and the band prepared to play. Parqay tiles had been laid out on the grass to create a dance floor and Al and Riza, Sarah and Havoc were escorted out to stand in the center of it.

A slow dance was the first dance of the evening, and the newly weds has the floor all to themselves. Roy covered Ed's hand as they sat side by side watching and Ed watched his brother with his new wife; and watched Riza with her new husband. It made him feel complete as never before. He'd done it, he'd really done it. There really would be a happily ever after.

The next song wasn't so slow, and Al and Riza fled from Sarah and Havoc as they showed the wedding attendees just what swing was all about. They were joined then, by several other young officers and their dates and Ed stood up to speak to Al as he left the dance floor with Riza on his arm. But Sarah took that as an invitation to come running over, pratically leap on Ed and drag him onto the tiles.

“I want my parents to see me dance with a celebrity at my wedding!” She told him loudly and half strangled him and pretty much puppet-mastered him for a couple of verses before Havoc rescued him and he fled back to the safety of the grass. Wine and beer were being passed around and Al snagged Ed and excused them for a moment, dragging his brother out of the tent and a few feet away so they could hear each other speak.

“Al, this is great, this is more than great,” Ed gushed. “It's been wonderful, I'm so happy, you look great, Riza looks beautiful, it's all so great.” It was, it really was, it was all so wonderful and the way it should be, it was everything he wanted for Al.

Al yanked him hard against his chest, held him tightly for long moments.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. No one, anywhere has a brother like you,” Al said and Ed ground his face into Al's shoulder and Al let him stay there until he could stop the tears and they could return to the party in progress.

**  
And the party progressed and progressed, until finally some people has to be carried away, and others had to be lured away, but with all good things, it call came winding down. In the aftermath of overturned chairs, a littered field and a deserted stage a few people still sat. Havoc had produced, seemingly from no where a radio, and with some jury rigging they had it neatly hooked up to the General's car battery. He and Sarah, Al and Riza, Breda and Fuery all sat in the merry wreckage that had been a wedding receiption as Havoc fiddled with a knob and tried to tune in a radio station.

“We could all just pile in the car and go back to town,” Breda suggested, “and find an open bar.”

“Riza and I are leaving in the morning,” Al said, “we can't be out so late, or drink anymore.”

“I'd rather not start my honeymoon with a hangover,” Riza said from her perch on Al's lap.

“All the best parties produce hangovers,” Sarah informed them with pink cheeks and a sloppy smile, “where are we going again? We're going somewhere, it will still be there when we finally get there.”

“We're going to the shore baby,” Havoc said, ear pressed to the radio, “where we can lounge around for a whole week and doing nothing.”

“Is that what we're doing?” Sarah said and blinked, she was straddling a chair, sitting backwards on it, resting her arms over the chair back.

The radio crackled to life and Havoc grinned and tried to pat himself on the back, he beckoned to Sarah who hopped up, kicked her chair over, ran over and grabbed his hand and proceeded to be whirled away.

“She's not human I tell you,” Breda said, elbow on table, chin in palm, “she'll be rip roaring to go tomorrow morning just like she ain't drank a keg and a half of beer by herself. I wish I knew what the secret was, I'd buy it off her.”

Ed sat by Roy's side, very close, leaning on him as Roy had an arm draped over his shoulders. They were both quiet, Roy occasionally sipped from a wine glass, Ed just had a small smile on his face.

“Brother, everything alright?” Al asked.

“Fucking perfect, ah crap, I said I wasn't going to curse, sorry Al,” Ed said.

“If we could, we'd do this for you,” Riza said and everyone got a little quiet themselves, even Havoc and Sarah slowed down and stood holding each other and swaying.

“We appreciate the gesture,” the general said and raised his wine glass, then he sat it aside and caught Ed's chin, turned Ed's face to his and kissed him.

Ed blinked for a moment, then let his eyes slide shut.

They had each other, a ceremony really didn't matter. Roy pulled back, then stroked Ed's bottom lip with his thumb.

“We already know this is for life, as much as I'd like to give Ed this kind of celebration with all his family and friends; this is enough. We've had our celebration vicariously through yours. So thanks to you, the Elrics and the Havocs, for allowing us to be part of your special day.”

Ed licked his lips, but really couldn't follow that up.

The radio saved him.

 _Someday, when I'm awfully low, and the world is cold, I can feel a glow thinking of you, and the way you look, tonight_

The General got to his feet, he took Ed's hand in his and pulled him up as well. He lead Ed out to the middle of the dance floor, Havoc and Sarah gave way and it was just the two of them there, together.

 _Yes you're lovely, with your smile so warm, and your cheeks so soft, there is nothing for me but to love you, and the way you look tonight._

“I'm not good at this,” Ed said, starting to look down at his feet as Roy put a hand on his waist and held his other hand out.

“It's alright, I am, just follow me,” Roy said.

“To the ends of the world, and even after that,” Ed answered.

 _With each word your tenderness grows, tearing my fear apart... And that laugh that wrinkles your nose, it touches my foolish heart._

It was easier than he thought, Roy led him carefully, but he really already knew the way. The made a circuit of the tiles once, then Al and Riza joined them.

 _Lovely ... Never, ever change. Keep that breathless charm. Won't you please arrange it ?  
'Cause I love you ... Just the way you look tonight. _

They came to a slow stop, Ed still leaning against Roy.

Everything he was and everything he would be were all right here in this man's arms.

 _Just the way you look tonight._

It wasn't only for Al and Riza or Havoc or Sarah or the magnitudes of people in the world, this one or the other one.

It was also for him.

This was his happy ending.

 _~fini_


End file.
